So you can be Mine
by Birgitta Snyder
Summary: It's not easy being the new kid, just ask Cara. Especially when your mother is an alcoholic, your father is always gone, and the Reverend w the local church wants you to join despite of you being an atheist. When Cara gets in trouble and has to do community service at the church, Cara is thrown together with River, the Reverend's serious & odd son
1. Chapter 1

**Holy welcome:**

New town, new school, new peers… I hate this part. I wish I could just fast forward a few weeks and by pass the very beginning. Imagine skipping the first days and the first impressions. It's not that I'm nervous. I fit in just fine. My father even calls me a chameleon. Guess I haven't had much choice. Because of my father's job, we move around a lot. So, I have no choice and lots of practice. I just wish I could skip the part where I have to answer all the questions directed at the new kid.

I wonder how my father handles it. Or, maybe it's different for adults. Maybe adults have not only developed a filter. They have also developed the necessary manners that keeps them from asking the new kid intrusive and awkward questions. Why can't people just mind their own business?

_Door bell_

"Seriously? Already?"

I glance over at my mother, passed out exhausted on the couch with an empty scotch glass next to her. Her blond hair, once so beautiful and shiny, lay in a messy heap on the pillow below her. Soundly, she sleeps even though there are boxes all around her to unpack, the refrigerator is empty of food, and there is someone at the door.

"Don't get up, mom. I got it."

I'm not being sarcastic and there is no vice in my voice. Despite all of my mother's lackings, I still love her. What I hold and feel is the true definition of unconditional love. It enables me to see past my mother's not so motherly behaviors. I don't pity myself. It is just the way it is. This is one of the cards I was dealt.

The bell rings again and I make my way to the front door. Outside, there's a whole family consisting of two adults and four children waiting for me. The oldest, a boy, looks about my age. Not bad looking. At least, I think he isn't bad looking. Those glasses, side combed hair, and Sunday fancy clothes make it hard to decide. He matches the rest of the family who all look like they are headed to a meeting with the school principle. My mother would sneer at the woman's plain and heavily starched white blouse with matching skirt. Her long brown hair, reaching far down her back, would also have raised one of my mother's well plucked eyebrows in a disapproving fashion.

They must be one of our new neighbors welcoming us to the neighborhood. Excitedly hopeful, I look down at the woman's hands.

'_What? No dish or dessert!_' I huff in my head.

What kind of greeting is this? Not even a plate of cookies? My empty stomach growls in irritation.

Stay pleasant and don't let them notice your annoyance, I tell myself before I open my mouth. "Can I help you?" I ask and I am pleased with myself because I sound sweet and sincere… at least to my ears.

The woman smiles and takes a step closer, too close for my comfort. "Is your father or mother available, dear?"

Dear… I've never liked being called that… it's associated with bad childhood memories.

I try to smile but I am too tired and hungry to pull it off genuinely. "No," I tell the woman who seems to be the spokes person for the entire family. All the other members, including the husband, stand wide eyed and quiet behind her. "My father is at work and my mother is resting. It's been a long and tiring day. Moving in."

I'm explaining myself and excusing my mother's state. Why do I do that? I don't owe them anything. They're stranger. They mean nothing. They didn't even bring cookies!

"Of course, dear," the woman says and I cringe.

She leans closer and tries to peek past me to catch a glimpse of the inside of our house. I hurry to step outside and close the door completely behind me. The boy looks down at his feet while fidgeting. He is probably embarrassed over his mother's behavior. I can relate.

"Well, perhaps you could pass on a message to your parents. We bring the word of God."

Oh no, not the word of God. Why couldn't they just have brought a plate of cookies? I guess I should have known. My father has moved us to a small bible belt town named Miracle and this is its consequence; Jesus people at your door step asking you to join their church.

"Ok," I respond uncaring and unemotional.

The woman blinks in surprise and glances over at her husband who finally decides to speak. "Dear child, welcome. I am Reverent Thomas Mill. This is my wife Beth and these are our children: Sarah, Johanna, Mary, and my oldest River."

He looks up as his father says his name and I meet his eyes unhindered. I've never been shy around boys. Irritated perhaps and bothered by their constant attention but never shy.

"Hello," I greet them all, uninterested and eager to end this so I can return inside and order a pizza.

"I would like to invite you to attend this Sunday's service. Our church is the largest in Miracle and I am sure you will soon make many friends there."

My hand has moved to the door handle. Soon, I will have to say it and I prefer a quick escape. I very seldom wish for my mother's presence but right now her sudden appearance would be greatly appreciated.

"You would make the right sort of friends there."

It's the boy who has spoken, for the first time, and I squint at him. What an odd thing to say to someone you have just met. To presume that I need help in finding the 'right' sort of friends, that's just rude. Isn't it?

"The right sort of friends," I repeat, challenging and staring him down.

Unafraid, he doesn't recoil. "Those who are on the right path," he further informs me without hesitation or restraint.

It sure sound like a lecture is coming my way and I am in no mood for it. "I… I sure appreciate this… this welcome and this invitation to your church but… my father works even on Sunday's and my mother hardly leaves the house without him."

'_Unless she runs out of booze'_, I fill in inaudibly.

"So I don't think…" I finish and open my front door, showcasing that the conversation is over.

"You could come," the boy says, his brown eyes behind his glasses staring deep into mine. "We are holding the door open for you, the door which leads to heaven and God."

Staring right back at him, not afraid, I tell them the truth. "Sorry but I don't believe in God."

Slowly, I let the physical matter of the front door begin to separate them from me. The last thing I see as I let it shut completely, through the thin remaining opening, is the boy eyeing me with a concerned look on his face. Not allowing any of them to affect me, I pick up the phone and dial the number to the closest pizza shop.


	2. 2 Even Atheists deserve to be Loved

Let's see where this story takes us. I'm excited. There's nothing like a good romance story.

If you are equally excited, let me know by reviews and by clicking Story Alert.

Birgitta

**2. Even Atheists deserve to be Loved**

Chewing on a slice of pizza, I sit down on our love seat. Mom is still sleeping, completely unaware of everything going on around her which includes me. I place the pizza box on the table and open the lid so that the steaming aroma can escape. I'm hoping that the appetizing smell will arouse her. She has to eat. I can't recall when I saw her eat last.

"Mom," I say with a soft voice. Mom hates to be woken up. "I ordered pizza. Are you hungry?"

I continue eating my slice, chewing slowly as I watch for any movements. Sometimes it can take up to 10 minutes for her to even stir. Over the years, I have learned to have patience and show consideration. Dealing with my mother is like dealing with a child. Myself, I haven't been allowed to act like a child for a very long time.

"Mom, you have to eat. Please, will you eat something? Mom!"

"What?" My mother squeals startled and her head lifts a few inches off the pillow before collapsing back down again.

In her voice, there is irritation over being woken up. Usually, I would resign and let her go back to sleep. To not anger her further, I would go to my room and shut the door. Not today. There is unease over what I said to the Reverent and his family. We live here now and I need to be respectful. My father has instilled in me the importance of making a good first impression. What will he say when he hears? Proclaiming my non-belief so directly, basically throwing it in their faces, might have been out of line. It doesn't feel right and I need my mother to listen. I need my mother to be a mother.

"Mom, we had visitors while you were sleeping." Mom grunts as an affirmation that she is listening. "They invited us to their Sunday church service." Mom chuckles into her pillow making me crack a small crooked smile. "I might have been rude, mom."

"Not possible," mom croaks, her throat sounding dry and overused. "Not my little girl."

This is why I am able to see past all of my mother's lackings. When she is lovable, she is the best mommy ever.

"They invited me to their church and I replied that I don't believe in God."

Anxious, I wait for her judgment and I don't have to wait long.

Loud laughter rings out throughout the house and she sits up, though looking both unstable and groggy. "That's not being rude. That's telling the truth," she settles definite as an authority. I breathe out with relief and hand her a slice of pizza. "No, no pizza. Water."

Without waiting for a please, I rise and return with a glass of ice water. My mother takes it without saying thank you. How I've learned any amount of manners can be seen as a miracle, even though I don't believe that it was brought on by divine interventions. Children like me are just self-sufficient. We are used to, forced to, rely on our own wits, smarts, and guts.

"Your father home yet?"

I shake my head and grab another pizza triangle. "It's only 5 o'clock, mom. But hey, I was thinking…" I cheerfully say, hopeful and excited but still emotionally prepared for a letdown. I am always emotionally prepared for a letdown. "… I was thinking we could unpack your bedroom and bathroom together. I've already unpack my room, the other bathrooms, and the kitchen so I thought…"

"No now, sweetie."

A stab at my heart but I hold my voice steady as I try to convince her to abandon the couch. "Dad is not going to be happy if he comes home and his things are not unpacked. You know he expects…"

"Later," mom mumbles and yawns as she lays back down. Her one hand waves at me like I am an annoyance she wishes to be rid of. "Now, let mommy get some sleep. I am exhausted."

For a brief moment the sense of injustice overtakes me and I storm for the door. I stand there, for probably several minutes, panting and cursing my unfair life, before I recollect myself and once accepts that this is what I was dealt. Besides, it could be worse. It could always be worse.

Like a good girl, I make my way upstairs and into my parent's master bedroom. To save my mother and to appease my father, I grab the box closest to me and begin to unpack its content. By the time my father gets home at 11:30, every item has been neatly put away. Quietly under my covers a few doors down, I listen as my father uses the bathroom and then goes to bed. All is calm and yell free, and it's all thanks to me. I won't get a thanks for my hard work but that's ok. I'm used to it.

I turn to my side -I'm a side sleeper- and close my eyes. Sleep needs to take me. Tomorrow is my first day at my new school and I feel unusually anxious. It doesn't take any deep mind-exploring to realize the root to my anxiety. Despite my mother's words, I still have this gnawing feeling that proclaiming my atheistic standing was a huge mistake and somehow, I was going to pay dearly for my bold announcement. And in some way, the boy –River- was going to be the one to carry out my punishment.


	3. 3 Chosing the Right Friends

If you read this, you like it, you want me to write more – Let me know!

I fuel off of reviews.

I'm excited to see how these two change and grow closer.

Hope you like it, B

**Choosing the right Friends:**

When I wake up in the morning, I am a complete mess. The sound sleep that I had been expecting and that I really needed had failed to set in. Instead, I had been a manic bed roller, rolling from one side of the bed to the other all night.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I conclude that only a hot shower and lots of conditioner is going to save me from a horrendous first day. After the shower, I eye the outfit I selected last night critically before deciding that I am a fashion genius and it's perfect.

20 min later, with a yogurt in my stomach and freshly brushed teeth, I head out to my car. My car was a gift on my 16th birthday. It's a compact blue Kia so nothing extravagant yet precisely fitted for my needs. I am also lucky to not have to take the bus.

All eyes are on me when I pull into school property and park my little blue baby in a tight spot by the main entrance. I turn the rearview mirror to face me and lock gaze with myself. All looks as it should; smooth long dark hair, honest brown eyes, and red lips curved into a sweet smile.

One slow exhale and I exit the car.

'_Let's get this over with_.'

Outside, students and teachers are moving at different speeds towards the stairs. I line up with a few girls and adapt to their pace. The girl closest to me looks over and at first her expression is a blank unimpressed glance. Then, I see a spark of interest as her well painted eyes sweep across my features and appearance.

"Hi, you're the new girl… from Chicago?"

She says the city like it's a big deal and I almost crack a smile. But, then I remind myself that I am new, that I have no friends, and that I should treat others as I wish to be treated.

"That's me; the new girl. I'm Cara."

I reach out my hand and the girl takes it while raising a very sharply drawn black eyebrow into a high curve. "Aren't you polite," she smirks, making fun on my manners.

I let it slide. It's best not to cause waves on the first day.

"I'm Sophia, but I go by So," she directs me and I get a feeling that calling her by her long name comes with consequences. "You are really pretty," she adds.

First, she offers a poke at my usage of formalities and then she slides in a compliment. "Thank you," I reply, not quite sure how to take this girl.

Is she a friend or a foe, I wonder and then debate whether or not to offer back the same type of compliment. After performing a similar analysis of her exterior assets, I decide not to. I try not to lie first thing in the morning.

It turns out the girl, and her friends, and I have the same classes. I tag along, even though I have not quite decided if they are for me. Still, it feels good to belong. We all want to belong and fit in. It makes life easier.

Soon, with one class following the last, the day begins to roll on. Don't they all? They just roll on, one after the other: math, history, and art. Art is my favorite. I love to draw. I always have. It's how I let myself go and allow the real me to come out. When I draw, there are not restrictions and obligations. It's just me, the paper, and my colors. As always, my mother's features begin to appear yet it is not a realistic her. I draw her the way that I wish she was like: energetic, involved, adventurous, and happy. This time, she is hanging by the side of a mountain cliff with a beautiful ocean view in the background. Last time I drew her, she was a matador in Spain. The time before that, she was an astronaut walking on the moon. The time before…

"That's a beautiful portrait, Cara," my teacher compliments as I add the finishing touches to my mother's mountain climbing gear. "Is this your mother?" She asks and I nod.

Luckily, she says or asks nothing else. I grow tense when people ask me about my mother. It ends up with me telling a lot of lies and I hate to lie. I suppose, I have myself to blame. If I was to draw something else, the subject wouldn't even arise. Still, it is as if nothing else matters and as if my fingers desire to draw nothing else.

As the bell rings, we pile out towards the lunch hall. The hallway is narrow and there is inpatient shoving from famished class mates all around me. Not especially hungry, I would have preferred to keep painting. I keep seeing my mother at Atlantis, dressed in an elaborate sea weed gown riding on a dolphin, holding a…

Sophia, I mean So, emerges by my side and grabs me by the crook of my right arm. "You're sitting with us at our table," she orders and steers me through the door opening to the cafeteria. Casually, like royalty, she waves to the left and right as she proceeds forward. "It's where all the good looking and popular kids sit."

I hold back a comment and just sit down in my designated spot. Truly, what is there to say? It's the same at every school cafeteria, no matter the size of the city or what part of the country. There are clicks and the division of students is the easiest to spot during lunch break. I always seem end up with the 'cool' kids. I shouldn't complain. Popularity is something some would kill for and when lost, teens have been known to actually take their own life.

I play with the fork in my hand. It's hard to eat when everyone is staring at you. The questions and comments have been coming at me all day. It's exhausting and I would gladly trade my spot at the cool kids table for an empty one in the corner. I scan the room to see if such as spot is available.

This is when I see him; River, the Reverend's son. He is not alone. He is sitting at the largest table in the room, straight across from me, watching… yeah that's right… me. Despite the loud and lively discussion going on between all his friends, he sits quiet and still while watching me.

I turn back around, a shiver moving through me. "Creepy," I mumble.

"What?" So inquires.

"That boy over there… River," I explain. "He keeps staring at me. His whole family came by my house yesterday, inviting me to their church and urging me to stay on the right path."

So glances past me and across the table. "They do that. Every time someone new moves into town, they visit the family to welcome them to the congregation. Don't worry about River. He's harmless and he keeps to his own. The only time, I ever hear him talk is when he is giving the correct answer in class."

I am not entirely convinced, especially since he is still staring. What does he want from me? I have made it perfectly clear that I will never attend their church. Perhaps this is why he stares; because of what I said.

"We're going shopping after school. You're coming with us."

Another order but I only nod. Shopping sounds fun. It sounds like a perfect distraction. Besides, it will allow me to get to know these girls better and once and for all decide if we are compatible.

'_The right sort of friends'_.

River's words echoes through my mind. Regardless of what I think of him, his family, and his faith, he is right; choosing the right sort of friends is important. Now, what he considers the right sort probably doesn't match my idea of a good friend. One look over at his table clarifies this belief.

We hit the local supermarket. There is nothing I need but getting out is nice. To please my new friends, I follow along obediently, insert a proper comment when required, and pretend to be actually considering buying something.

Over in the electronics department, we stop to casually flip through the rows of CDs and DVDs. "I love your bag, Cara," So muses and holds her hand out for it.

"Thank you," I reply and let her see it, even though I'd rather not. It's an original and very expensive. "It was a birthday gift."

I am pulled in another direction by Anna, a red headed who acts as if So is the definition of teenage perfection. There's a dress she wants my opinion on. A school dance is coming up in a couple of months and getting the right dress means everything. In the middle of offering my slightly warped opinion on the fit, So gives me back my bag and then declares that we are done shopping. We all line up after her like baby ducklings. It's a ranking parade and I have been dealt the rear. I'm the new kid and still have to prove my worth, earn my way to the top.

As I step across the detectors, on my way out the front sliding doors, the alarm goes off. Not concerned, more inconvenienced, I stop to wait for an associate to tell me all is well and wave me thru. This sort of thing happens all the time. No machine is completely faulty proof.

"Figures," I mumble to myself.

So and the other girls are gone. They didn't even bother to stay behind and make sure everything was fine. I'm glad I didn't accept their offer for a ride and took my own car. If I hadn't, I'd be walking home and it's easily over 5 miles to our house.

"May I see your purse?"

I blink and turn in the direction of the requesting voice. "My purse?" I frown at the store manager whose name tag reads Sam.

Where is my wave thru by an associate?

"Yes. Your purse. Do I have your permission to look through it?" The manager says and there is an edge to his voice that I do not like. I haven't done anything wrong so why is he talking and probing me like I am a wrong-doer. "You've set off the alarm so do I have your permission or must I call for the police."

'_What the...?_' I curse in my head.

I shove the purse at his protruding gut, now getting generally pissed off at his discriminating behavior towards me. "Fine. Take it! I have nothing to hide."

Arm crossed over my chest, I stand solid and secure while he opens up my purse to look inside. A small smile lingers across my lips as I wait for him to admit his mistake and apologize. He will find nothing of interest unless he is into tampons, lip stick, floss, and pack of gum. They are all in non-new condition… well, not the tampon obviously.

"And, what is this?" The manager asks and my eyes trail to his hand which is holding up a DVD.

Unaffected, I shrug. "It's not mine!"

He scowls, his manners turning even more rude. "I know that. It belongs to the store, since you didn't PAY for it."

Realization hits me. "Wait a minute. That was in my purse? And, you think I was trying to steal it? No way! I don't steal. I don't have to. I have money. Look in my wallet."

My composure that but a minute ago was so cool is now shifting to a state of nervous sweating. This can't be happening.

"Maybe you like the rush," the manager fume. He turns to the nearest associate to complain. "I am so sick of the school kids coming in here stealing. They ought to…"

"I didn't steal the DVD," I interrupt, maybe not the best tactic to get on his good side. "Someone must have put the DVD in there. Maybe one of the girls I was with, like a test or for fun. Mess with the new kid."

'_The right sort of friends'_.

He huffs and gives the associate a glance before grabbing me by the arm. "Yeah, for fun," he mutters as we head to the back of the store. "Kids today, thinking they can get away with anything. Their parents should teach them…"

I shut out his rambling so that I can think. My dad is going to KILL me! It doesn't matter that I am not to blame. My father is all about appearance and this is bad. This is really, really bad!

The manager sits me down in a chair and picks up his office phone. "What's your parents' number?"

I shake my head. "My mother won't answer the phone and my father is tied up in business meetings all day. Can't I just pay for the merchandise?" The look on his face screams NO back at me. "Ok," I swallow nervously. My heart's pace is racing, getting out of control, while my mind is scrambling to figure out a save. "Or, could I work it off? Look, I'll do anything. My father, he… he's kind of strict…"

I leave it at that and plead with my eyes. "Look, kid. I am just fed up and there has to be…" He rises suddenly and looks at something behind me. Correction, he looks at someone. "Reverend Mill, how wonderful it is to see you in my store. Service was inspirational and uplifting as usual Sunday."

'_Shit!_'

I remain still, shrinking down into my seat, trying to make myself smaller or even invisible.

"Thank you, Sam. I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice indicates a smile and southern warmth. I hope the warmth will continue as the conversation moves to entail me. "Is there a problem? Anything I can help with, Sam?"

The Reverend comes up and his hands are placed on the back of my chair. The hair rises on my arms. Could the situation become any worse? Not possible!

"Oh nothing I can't handle, Reverend. I caught this girl stealing a DVD and I was just about to call the police since her parents can't be located."

"Is that so?" His tone is steady and relaxed with no particular opinion or emotion noticeable. My fingers begin to fidget as I wait for his next words which will either make me or break me. "I am familiar with this girl and I believe I have a solution."

'_Oh no. no, no, no_.'

"Reverend?" The manager asks unsure but I can read the admiration in his features and it's clear; he is going to agree and accept… no matter what this solution entails.

I am screwed.

"We need some help at the church. What do you think, Sam? Two hours every day after school for two month?"

I spin around in the chair, no longer concerned with acting cautious and polite. "What? No way! I didn't even steal the stupid DVD. I was set up. Check your security cameras."

"There are no cameras," the manager informs me coldly. His eye contact is with the Reverend as if I am not even there. "Two month may be a little excessive. How about a month?"

He is not asking me. My input is not required.

"Very well. A month it is." The Reverend turns his attention to me. His face is as serious as his tone. "Do you agree to this, Cara? Or, should we call the authorities?"

He knows that I don't want my parents informed. What does he know of my domestic situation? I nod, pushed up against a tall brick wall, and the deal is struck. The Reverend's got me for a whole month.

"It's settled then," the Reverend decides and reach out a hand. I take it, lacking another choice. "No day better than the present."

I don't argue. There is no point. Heavy hearted and spirited, I follow him to his church. A day that had such potential is now sucked dry. Two hours, five days a week, for a whole month, in a church, with Reverend Mill; can it get any worse? It's not possible!

We walk into the church and the impossible proves possible as the Reverend points to his son. "Cara, you remember River? The two of you are about to get to know each other very well. He will be the one in charge of you for the next month."


	4. 4 Choice is for the Privileged

So, what do we think? I would love some feedback.

Please write a review, Birgitta

**Choice is for the privileged.**

"Aren't you going to ask me?"

He looks up from behind a stack of bibles, his brown hair in an unusual mess. "No," he replies, shaking his head. With one index, he pushes his heavy glasses back up his nose and I can't stop an eyebrow from lifting. "My father called me. He explained everything."

"I'm sure he did," I grumble, mad at the world which has thrown me into this unfair situation. I fold my arm across my chest, displaying my defiant nature. "Aren't you going to tell me 'I told you so'? About choosing the right sort of friends?"

"God works in mysterious ways," he lets me know and returns to stacking bibles in neat even piles.

I frown and walk over to where he is busy looking busy. "What does that mean? What are you saying?"

He straightens out and towers over me. I hadn't realized until now that he was a bit taller than me. Not wanting to do so, angry at myself for doing so, I shrink and my defiance fizzles.

He grabs a stack of bibles and places them in my hands. "You're here, where you're supposed to be."

I chuckle, refusing to show that he had affected me. "Yeah right, this is a church. If there is anywhere I do not belong… it's here," I settle and point to the wooden flooring with a struggling finger, trying to balance the heavy bibles.

"Place a bible in each seat. We have service tonight," he says, all business, and refocuses his gaze to his piles. His tone is quiet, flat. "Come back for more when you need them."

I sense the erection of a wall. I'm being shunned.

I shrug, figuring it's for the best. It's better just to start working so time will go faster. After all, why keep up a conversation with someone I have nothing to say to? Why try to get to know someone who is so close minded and lives in a world completely different than mine? River and I have nothing in common. Once this community service is over, we will never have to deal with each other again.

One after the other, I find each bible a home. It's a big church with many seats and when I finally think that I am done, River makes a gesture to the top sitting area. I sigh and shoot him an annoyed look which he turns away from. He could care less. He is God's and daddy's little slave boy who eagerly serves.

Then again, who am I? Mommy's little slave girl?

I shake it off, irritated at my thoughts, and get back to bible placing. When the task is finally completed, I sit down on a front aisle bench to look down. I lean forward and place my forearms on the railing in front of me, resting my head onto my hands. From above, I can see the interior of the church better. I can't deny that it has a certain appeal. Everyone wants to belong to some sort of group, even adults. We need guidance, support, love… even I. The only difference is where we get it from. I never…

"If you're done, you can go home."

I rotate my resting head slightly to the side and stare at River who has crept up on me. My eyes glide over his well ironed pants, his proper white dress shirt, and his sensible thick glasses. I smirk and shake my head as I rotate back to once again look out over the church.

"What?" He asks and a hand comes up to run through his thick brown hair once.

"Nothing," I mumble into my hands and make no attempt at moving.

Sitting still feels good. Just being feels good. I know what awaits me when I get home. Mom will not have gotten anything done all day so it will be up to me. There will be dinner to cook, laundry to wash, dishes to put away, and the last bit of boxes to unpack. Even though dad is gone and won't be home for days, I can't slack, I can't be irresponsible, and I certainly can't act my own age.

I sigh, even though it is a bad idea.

River moves hesitantly to the same bench and sits down next to me, sort of, a very oversized person could fit in the space between us. "Everything alright?"

I tilt my head again and try to find his eyes which are hiding between two very sturdy cuts of glass. "Everything is great," I mock him and his concern. The frustration builds and out it suddenly all flies, right in the face of a stranger. "I'm new in town, my 'friends' just set me up, I have to do community service here for the next month, when I get home I have to do everything my mother was supposed to do all day but instead decided to rest on the couch, and I… I…"

I am panting. My chest is moving exaggeratedly under my shirt and yet, I don't seem to be getting any air.

A hand is placed on my shoulder and I flinch. River smiles apologetic and removes his hand quickly. A soft blush appears on his cheek and he hastily stands up.

He begins to walk off but then turns. "We're here for you. In any way we can. We're here for you."

He leaves and I sigh heavily before making my way downstairs. River is nowhere to be seen so I grab my belongings and exit the church. Driving home, my mind abandons all thoughts of River, the church, and my community service sentence. At home, new challenges await and I have to battle one at a time or I will truly shatter into an emotional mess.

'_We're here for you'_, I think, annoyingly unable to completely let go. I chuckle. What a pile of garbage. I am on my own. I always have been and I probably always will. No month of community service at a church is going to change that.

I walk in through the door and sure as shit, mom is on the couch asleep. One quick scan and I can tell that nothing has gotten done. If I was weak, I would sit down and cry. If I did not love my mother, I would go to my room and do nothing. If I was not so used to this, I would be complaining and huffing with teenage drama. But, this is my life and what I feel for my mother is unconditional. For her, I will suffer through anything she puts me through. Choice is for the privileged.

While dinner is cooking in the oven, I remove the evidence of my mother's drinking off the living room table. The contents of the last 9 boxes are quickly unpacked and dispersed at its new proper place. When the alarm goes off, I turn off the oven and wake up mom. She has to eat. I like it when she eats. The alcohol loses some of its grip on her and the old her glimpse through.

"How was your day, honey?" She asks and I am even graced by her beautiful smile.

I love her smile. I wish I could see it more. I wish things could go back to the way they had been… before… before everything fell apart.

"It was good. I met a few girls. We went shopping."

Another smile and she stabs a broccoli with her fork. "That's nice, honey. Did you get anything?"

I smile, despite my anger over the shopping trip, and watch happily as she eats. "No," I say, which is true. I always try my hardest not to lie, especially to my mother. "But, I did start community service. I think it will look good on my college application."

Again, I am not telling a lie.

Mom nods enthusiastically at me and waves her fork in the air. "Very good, dear. Where at?"

I hold my breath as I tell her. "At the church."

She coughs and her big blue eyes grow bigger. "At the church? But you don't like church."

I shrug and get back to my vegetarian lasagna. After dinner, mom jumps into the shower while I clean up the kitchen and get going with my homework. I'm not expecting her to come out and socialize some more, but one could hope. It's not until I go past her bedroom, on my way to mine, that I hear her raised voice. She's having another argument with dad, like every night. I'm so sick and tired of it. I just want it to end. I'll do anything to make it end.

When sliding into my bed, I leave the blinds open so I can see the stars. As I child, I used to count them to help me fall asleep. I'm tired so I should have no problem to drift off on my own. Yet, my mind is so cluttered and preoccupied with thoughts. In a jumble they all crowd, pushing and shoving to star in my dream: my mom, my dad, my new 'friends', manager Sam, Reverand Mill, and… River.

'_We're here for you'._


	5. 5 Striking a Deal

I would love some more reviews. Thank you to those of you who did review. I appreciate it

I just finished up my 40 chapter long (WOW!) fanfiction based on the TV series "Terra Nova" and I decided to put the lid on my other fanfiction based on TV series "TeenWolf", so this is it for right now.

Let me know what you think. Thanks, B

5**. Striking a Deal.**

"Want to hang out after school today? We could go home to my house."

It's So asking, kissing my ass, trying to earn my forgiveness. She should be. What they pulled was bull. For a month, I am going to have to go to that church. Like I didn't have enough to deal with as it is.

"Pass," I let her know and shut my locker.

Her and her amigas run after me. I had known they would.

"Oh come on, Cara. I'm sorry. It's normal procedure. Anna, tell Cara what we did to you?"

I stop to hear what she has to say. Out of all of them, I'm ok with Anna the most. She's shy and awkward. She comes off as a wounded puppy. I have a thing for the lost, scared, and needy.

Anna twists uncomfortable and looks around. "It's too embarrassing," she pleads, asking for permission to not share. Not caring, So urges her on and dismisses her request with a flick of her hand. "I had to walk up to Joey… and kiss him on the lips."

I raise an eyebrow while the other girls begin to laugh, So included. "Oh," I reply as Anna's cheeks turn red. The hallway is busy and I give the boys around us each a run over. None claim my interest. "Who is Joey?" I ask and gasps follow. I frown, not sure what the big deal is. "What?"

Anna's face is wide-eyed amazement, or perhaps outrage, over my question. "You don't know who Joey is? Joey is the captain of the basketball team, the best looking guy at school, and the guy everyone wants to date."

I nod, appreciating the 411 but I am not very impressed. I have dated boys with this type of description and they usually are not able to live up to their image.

"So what happened?" I ask Anna as we begin to walk again. "When you kissed him?"

She sighs, head bowed, with eyes focused on the floor. "He spit and wiped his mouth off, like I have some kind of decease," Anna reveals, looking rather heartbroken, and I can fully understand why she is so embarrassed over the event. "But at least So let me join the group. I proved myself. Like we all have to."

I get what she is telling me; we all pay our initiation due. "Boys," I tell her and actually place an arm around one of her shoulders. I feel bad for her, even more bad than I feel about my own situation. "There are lots more of them. I wouldn't worry about it."

At lunch, I decide to sit down with the group. It's like this; we all need to belong to some kind of group and this one might not be perfect but it sure as hell beats the alternative. My gaze slides over to River and his church folks. As if he has been expecting it, or waiting for it, he meets my glance and there is a brief smile. Not wanting anyone to see, I hurry to look away.

Just then, So decides to pry. "You never told us what happened?" She points out, as if I am not aware, as if she has any right to ask and expect to be told. "Did they find the DVD? Did they bust you?"

Her blue eyes, enclosed by thick black eyeliner, gleam at me with excitement over a juicy tale. I guess I should tell the truth. I hate to tell lies yet… Under my own unpainted eyelashes, I look over at the church table and I just can't do it. I can't tell them that I cowered and surrendered, that I will be spending every afternoon in a church with River, and that I didn't even fight the verdict. I will come off as weak. I shouldn't care… I know this.

I lift my head high, coming off as superior and fierce. "No, I wasn't busted. The alarm went off, the manager asked to search my bag, and I told him no. I told him my dad was a lawyer and was going to sue him for violating my rights."

I hold to see if they believe me. Soon after, my lie proves to be believable. So busts out laughing and brings her hands together. The loud clap echoes throughout the cafeteria, making everyone look our way.

She gawks at me. "No way. You didn't? That is awesome." She high fives Sue and Lana, the twins, and then leans over the table. Her voice seems to carry all across the cafeteria and I hope that River can't hear, for he knows that my story is complete b-s. "Seriously, that is awesome. I would have loved to see Sam's face. Was he mad?"

Finally, I can tell the truth. "He wasn't happy."

I let the girls continue to talk and giggle amongst themselves. There is nothing left to say. The deed has been done. I have lied but now I not only belong to a group, I am admired and respected. Again, I shouldn't care. I should be bigger than this. Yet, I am seventeen and I am tired of having to act older than I am. Sometimes, I just want to act my age and live for the moment without always thinking about consequences. Besides, some things are worth the consequences… aren't they?

I don't see River for the rest of the day which is perfectly fine with me. I'm about to spend two hours with him. That's plenty. When I walk into the church, he is already there and busy folding papers.

I turn my wrist just to make sure; I'm not late. "You're awfully eager?" I note, maybe with a touch of spite.

I shouldn't be rude. He has been nothing but nice yet… he just irks me. Why, I am not sure. Maybe, it's his church ways that bug me. Maybe, it's his perfect little life and family. Maybe, it's the fact that he is my 'boss'.

He studies me, a smile playing at his lips. Does nothing get to him? Piss him off?

Instead of telling me what to do, he gets back to his folding. Indecisively, I watch until I grow restless. Carefully, I put my things away and walk to where he is standing. Watching from behind him, I see how quickly he works. It is as if he has done this all his life. Perhaps he has. He is the Reverends son after all.

Preoccupied with my thoughts, I don't notice when his fingers go still. I don't notice how they instead of continuing to fold and place, they just hover over the pile. I didn't even notice his shoulders tighten which I should have. I had been letting my eyes wander down his long feature; all the way from his dark hair, down his neck, his back, and his ass. What can I say; I've got a thing for asses.

'_Not bad'_ I had to admit to myself, "_nicely rounded, tight, and grippable_". Not that I was debating. I was definitely not debating.

So, when he speaks, he startles me… on several different levels. "Must you stand so close?" He asks, abruptly, his normal gentle voice missing and replaced with a stranger's. He waits, waiting for me to move. "Cara!"

I jump at his usually harsh tone, withdrawing as if he has slapped me. Was there anger? Did he actually sound upset? Over what?

"It's not like I was doing anything wrong. What's the matter with you?" I grumble, wondering what the hell his problem is and, just when I was starting to deem him as somewhat normal. Maybe he caught me evaluating his butt and thought… as if! "I just wanted to know what you need me to do today."

He closes his eyes momentarily and then looks up at me remorsefully. "I'm sorry. I don't know… I don't know what came over me. I just couldn't have you… I'm sorry."

I shrug, more irritated now than anything else. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with. Give me a task. That's why I came over to stand by you. No other reason."

"Right," he nods, his brown hair moving, making it even more unruly. "Sorry," he apologizes again. "Of course you want to get out of here. Why wouldn't you. It's not like you…"

He begins to mumble and his speech becomes imcomprehendable. Not that I am straining to hear what he is saying. I doubt it is anything of interest.

"Here," he says and hands me a stack of paper. When I take them from him, our fingers brush against each other and he flinches at my touch. "You can fold them over there," he lets me know and points to a table at the other side of the room.

Confused and insulted, I take my stack and go to my assignment spot. My back is to him which is perfect cause I need to think. What is his deal? Why am I suddenly the plague? Not that I care but seriously, what have I done since yesterday that…

A light flicks on in my head; the lie. He must have heard!

The minutes tick by and we work in silence. The silence feels much heavier and crushing in a church. The lie I told weighs down on me. I cant be sure since I cant see but it feels as if his stare is burning at my back. What thoughts are raging through his head? Is he thinking me vain? A liar? A fool who cares too much about what others think?

Nearly an half an hour passes until he addresses me and hints at his eavesdrop. "I noticed you're still friends with So and the girls, even after what they did."

'_Here we go. Here it comes.'_

I set my work aside and whip around to face him. "They apologized for their stunt. And, I guess it's something they do to all the new girls," I excuse and my anger rises, both because of his probing and because I am making excuses for So. I haven't even truly decided if I forgive her and if I consider her a friend. "What?" I snap, overly offensive with a fierce need to prove that he cannot bully me. What is it about him that my blood boil? "Your friends are perfect? I guess you think you're perfect?"

He observes me, not at all looking smug or acting superior. "None of us are perfect, Cara. If you think it's with them you belong, then very well." He comes toward me and I resist rotating away from him. Before he gets close, he stops and looks down at me. "Are you done? With folding the song pamphlets, I mean? The choir is coming in for practice tonight and we need to set up."

He walks up to the front of the church and starts rearranging chairs. I watch him suspiciously as he sets up the stage area. What happened to our conversation? River sure has a talent for spitting out some off the wall craziness and then just acting like nothing. '_If you think it's with them you belong, then very well,_' what the hell does that mean? That it's with him and his church people that I belong? No, thank you! I could restart the conversation, confront him, and demand an explanation, but I'd better just leave it alone. There is nothing getting through to him. He is so stuck in his ideas of how people should be and act.

I finish up my work and then sit back in my chair. River is still reorganizing but I have no desire to help. Instead, I pull out my Algebra book from my back pack. Unintentionally, I slam the heavy book onto the table and River looks my way. Not worried since I've done my work, I open up to the part where I am completely lost. Test tomorrow and I am without a chance of getting a passing grade. I suck at math, completely and utterly.

I sigh, perhaps a bit louder and bit more pitiful than I should be, and River hesitantly draws nearer. His hands are in his jeans pocket, making him look even taller and slimmer. Appearing curious, he studies me as I act engulfed in my reading even though my mind is unable to focus. Math has always had this effect on me. My mind begins to spin to the point of headache. I just don't see the connection, the golden thread that links it all together. I'm artistic and math is as far from art that I can imagine.

"Studying for the math test tomorrow?"

I raise my head and take out my math frustration on him. "I'm done with my work. What? You've got more for me? You want me to move chairs?"

He's seems unfazed by my snappy reply and just sits down in a chair at the table. "No," he says, his lips curving upwards as he speaks as if my irritation amuses him. He picks up one of my extra pencils and begins to spin it between his index and middle. "You think you're going to fail?"

I breath out, loudly and extended, gathering my cool. "Yes, in a matter of fact. I do believe I am going to fail." I give him a look that should discourage any further stupidity. My head is pounding and he is not making it any better, at all. "I guess you're going to get an A."

"Probably," he confidently predicts.

Yet, he doesn't come off as cocky. It is more of a statement, like it's no big deal to him. No matter, he still pisses me off. I want an A and get it effortlessly like apparently is the case with River.

"Well aren't you special," I sulk and bury myself in my book again, accomplishing nothing than an even worse headache.

"I'd help you... if you want," he volunteers, his voice holding uncertainty. His body language radiates the same emotion as his leg shakes under the table and the pencil moves faster between his fingers. "It's only right. You've helped me so I should help you," he shrugs and waits for my reply.

With narrowed eyes, I search his face for the real reason behind his offer. "I'm not here, helping out, out of the goodness of my heart. I was forced… by your father… remember. I wouldn't be here if he didn't…"

"I know," he cuts me off. His tongue comes out to run across his bottom lip. It's a nervous twitch, maybe. "Still, it's the least I could do."

He hesitates. He seems to do that a lot, I've noticed. Is this part of his everyday behavior or something that only comes out around me? I've always had an effect on boys, just like my mother before she fell, but River is not a normal teenage boy. Is he? I mean normal in the sense that he is looking, dreaming, and fantasizing about girls? It can't be!

I nod, agreeing to his offer since I have absolutely nothing to lose. "But…" I state, still reeling and sour over his previous off the wall reaction. The fit he threw, over nothing, has to be explained if this tutoring business is going to work. "…how are you going to be able to tutor me? Since I can't get too close?"

I dig my brown into his equally deep brown, challenging him to best tell me the truth and the whole truth. "Yeah, about that," he fidgets. He cast a quick glance at the door leading to the back of the church; I think where the kitchen and office spaces are located. "My mother and my father they are very strict about… this," he says and motions to the both of us.

My eyes shrink and an ugly expression scrunches my face. "This…" I mimic, both his words and his hand movement. "What is this?"

"Intimacy," he blushes, barely able to hold my gaze. "Closeness to a girl of similar age. The possibility of something unproper taking place between us… it's not acceptable," he explains and my mouth almost falls open. I am just about to assure him and letting him know that there is no need for worry when he adds even more. "So, if I am to tutor you, you have to promise me something."

Completely taken aback, I throw my hands up in the air with a 'lay it on me' attitude cause there is no way that he would be able to shake me even further. "Alright, and what would that be?"

His face turns grave, unfaltering and serene, all shyness dissipating. "You have to promise not to fall in love with me."

His voice seems to echo, bouncing from one wall to the next as if the church is empty. I am fully aware that I am staring at him with my mouth unattractively open. Even though, I have heard him perfectly, I find it hard to convince myself that he as actually spoken these words. Who is this kid and on what planet does he live?

"Are you kidding?" I ask, giving him a chance to redeem himself and save himself from being labored nut job.

"No," he says, apparently holding no desire to change his request. In his face, there is no shame or bashfulness, just morbid seriousness. "If I am to tutor you, you cannot attempt to touch me inappropriately, kiss me, or begin to develop any romantic emotions for me. Do we have a deal?"

If I didn't need his help so desperately in math…

I chuckle once and then grow equally grave as he. "Trust me," I tell him, certain of what I am about to say next. "You have nothing to worry about. I will never attempt to do any of those things. I swear."


	6. 6 Beautiful

How are we liking the story so far? Let me know.

Like I've said before; I fuel off of reviews.

Thanks for reading, Birgitta

**Beautiful**

"How did you do?"

I haven't even made into the church. Squinting, the bright afternoon sun sticking at my eyes, I hold up a shielding hand while assessing the situation. River is meeting me outside, dressed uncharacteristically casual in a t-shirt with several holes, ripped jeans, rubber boots, and rubber gloves. At his side is a rusty old wheelbarrow filled with different types of garden tools. Except for a few escaping strands, his brown hair is held restricted under a black cap reading in silver '_Miracles happen daily in Miracles'_. There is a smile playing on his red lips and his eyes, nearly hidden behind his hideous thick glasses, gleam with childish excitement. He is holding out another pair of gloves and I take them with a scowl while I dig for my sunglasses.

"It is too hot to work outside," I complain, not sharing his giddiness, and my body agrees. Tiny beads of sweat are already forming all over my body and beginning to run down my skin underneath my cotton. "You do know that rubber can't breathe… and neither can I at this moment with this heat."

I have decided to disregard what he said yesterday, after contemplating all night and school day. I've concluded that he is an odd one and that it is his business to be so. I have promised to not fall in love with him or attempt to seduce him. This is no problem. I can do that, easily. All I want is from him to save me from mathematic failure.

With steady strong hands, River grabs the handles of the wheel barrow and signals with his head for me to follow. "Today, we tend to the flower beds," he decrees and I have no choice but to follow. He is my boss, at least for another 3 weeks or so. "So, how did you do?"

Assuming he is talking about the math test, I pull it out. "I haven't even checked," I admit truthfully, even though I am utterly aware of how silly I am acting. I just couldn't stand seeing an F circled at the top right corner. "What did you get?"

I shouldn't ask. It will only tick me off.

"An A," he shrugs off, like it means nothing, and I grumble on the inside… and possibly also on the outside. "Go on. Open it. Let's see what you got."

He sets down the barrow and faces me. His brown eyes have an encouraging look to them as I open up the paper and read the circled letter.

"D," I say disappointed and meet his gaze for an explanation. Did he not promise me a good grade? "It's not an F, it's not failing, but it's still horrible. My father will especially not view it as acceptable."

River eyes darken at this, or did the sun's brightness lessen? "Your father's strict?"

I imagine hearing an edge to his usual gentle tone and a red light flashes in my head, urging me to initiate damage control. "It's not like he beats me," I blurt out and I think I see River exhale out with relief, his graveness fading. I shrug uneasy, not comfortable with speaking of my family since there are so many secrets. "He just wants me to try my hardest, do my best. He only has me… because of… once he had …" I'm unable to continue as my voice threatens to choke up. It happens every time I think of him, my brother, even after all these years. "D just isn't good enough," I finish, wanting to divert the conversation from our current topic back to the original.

River takes the bait, or understands and grants my wish, by nodding once and grabbing a small garden tool. "It's a good thing then…" he grins to me, just before he bends down to his knees and begins to dig out weeds. I frown, not seeing what could be good about a D. "… that it was only a practice test."

'_Stupid' _I call myself irritated.

He looks behind him, up at me, grinning over his shoulder. "Actual tests are always on Fridays, Cara," he educates and I sink.

Playing cool, I smirk. "I knew that. I did," I ensure. I bite my lower lip, fidgeting, feeling foolish. "Ok, so you have 2 more days to get me at least a C."

"I have?" He teases and chuckles. "I do believe it will acquire some effort from you, as well."

Not able to hold back a laugh, I bend down on the opposite end of the flower island and together we work on removing every little pesty weed from around the decorative plants. One after the other, each flower bed is cleared of all unwanted greenery. The setting sun continues to beat down relentlessly, making our skin sticky and moist. My cotton shirt clings to my limbs and it is the same for River.

At least, I have my sunglasses which is more than I can say for him. "You know if you got contacts, you could wear sunglasses."

He stops working, his tiny shovel half way buried in the black dirt. "I have a hat."

"Yeah, but sunglasses are better, cooler. Those glasses are so… they look… you could be…"I search for the right words, not thinking it's wise to insult my tutor.

"They're what?" He insists, asking for it and takes the glasses off with his rubber clad fingers. At arm's length, he holds them out and inspects the lenses critically. "What's wrong with them?"

I debate and then decide that someone should tell him, for his own good. "They're ugly," I exclaim.

His arms drop to his knees where he lets the glasses rest. Watching me, waiting for me to say something further, he frowns.

Explicitly, I continue to express my opinion and ask the most basic question. "Why do you wear them?"

"Because I can't see without them, Cara," he says, not angry or even hurt, yet there is tension.

I feel a little bad but not bad enough because I am doing him a favor. "You know there's this great new invention called contacts. They will do the same thing as those ugly dinosaurs." His gaze falls to the 'dinosaurs' in his lap and the guilt creeps in. Maybe I shouldn't have been so harsh? "Look, I just think you'd look better without them. But hey, your choice."

He looks back up at me and I can see that in his stance there is nothing other than confidence and sureness. If I have hurt him, offended him, wounded his pride, or in any other way insulted him, he is not showing it. Perhaps this is just the case; I have no effect on him what so ever. He is so sure of himself and who he is and what he will become in life that others cannot rock him.

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't envy him.

"And, this is important… to look good?" He asks and I blink, so wrapped up in my thoughts.

I pull off my sunglasses, securing them on top of my head in my long brown hair, so I can see him better. "Well yeah, of course, it's important to look good. We are constantly judged based on our looks. This is the reality of things, River."

Is he really this clueless and removed from everyday life? Or again, does he just not care? As a teenager, how is it possible not to care? As a member of a judgmental society, how is it possible not to care?

He observes me calmly, and then rises to walk over to one of the church's large windows. In the setting sun, a mixture of light and shade falls over the surface and a clear reflection of him is produced.

"Come here, Cara," he calls and I obey, somewhat curious. I halt next to him, not too close, and together we stare at our window image. "We are who we are, how we were created by God, no matter what we wear. Do you not agree, Cara?"

I shrug, not sure what to say, not sure where he is headed with this and if I agree.

"Not matter your clothes, your shoes, your jewelry, or your accessories, your true self remains what it is."

I smirk, thinking I know what cliché is approaching. "Is this an inner beauty lecture? Aren't you a little young for that?"

Then again, this is River we are talking about, the Reverend's son, and the one who disillusioned had me promise not to fall in love with him. He is definitely not like other boys our age.

Soberly, he keeps his intense gaze on our reflection. "Sure, inner beauty is the most important quality, but I am talking about real outer beauty. You either have it or you don't. It cannot be taken away or be gained by tricks such as makeup or usage of items such as thick glasses." He holds up his glasses to me, offering them smiling. I withdraw, just an inch or two, yet it is a clear statement. "No one is watching, Cara, none of your 'cool' friends," he teases and I give him a warning scowl.

Reluctantly, I take them. I refuse to show any weakness or act ungenerous. If he is willing to give of himself, than I can afford to do the same. What harm will it do? I have over 3 weeks left with him.

The glasses feel heavy on my nose, pressing into my flesh and I am certain an indent is being created. "How do you wear these all day and not get a headache?" I complain.

"Look at yourself," Rivers asks of me, ignoring my wining.

I resist another smart ass comment and do as he asks. I find that the glasses make me look younger, possibly smarter, and they certainly do not fit my face. In fact, they take up such a large part of my face that they dominate my features.

"See?" River says and I focus, yet not sure what I am supposed to see. I doubt I see what he sees. "You are still beautiful…" he surprises me by saying. That I had not expected. "… despite the glasses. No matter your clothes, your hairstyle, or your ornaments, you will always be beautiful, Cara. So you see, it really doesn't matter, does it?"

I look at myself again, trying to see it the way he does. Sighing, handing the dinosaurs back to him, I give up. We are just too different to see anything the same. Besides, how did the conversation turn towards me? And, why was he telling me that I am beautiful? Wasn't he the one who said that there was to be no romantical…

"River?"

River leaps away from me, even though we were standing several spaces apart, and pales. "Mmmmoother," he stutters and I have to hold back a giggle. He is acting as if his mother caught us doing something wrong. "I didn't realize you were done with your bible study meeting."

His mother offers a courteous smile my way and I get the feeling that she is scrutinizing me. "Cara, isn't it?"

I nod in reply. Another smile, coming off as rehearsed and forced. A wave of disapproval crashes over me as she moves closer, passing me to stand between us. It's evident all over her; she does not like me being around her son. River wasn't kidding when he said they were strict about his interaction with girls.

'_The poor boy is going to die a virgin,_' I think to myself and I almost lose my cool façade.

"The flower beds look lovely, River," she approves and extends a hand to rest on her son's forearm.

Jealously, I watch them, wishing that my mother would once again show such open display of affection for me.

"It wasn't just me, mother. Cara has worked hard and deserves your praise equally."

Yet another polite smile flashes, briefly before it is distinguished. "Of course, River, you are right. Thank you, Cara, dear."

'_Dear_', I shiver, the sensation travels all the way down my back like smiley finger tips.

"No problem, Mrs. Mills. Besides, River and I have a deal. I help out and he helps me with my math."

Shock paints Mrs. Mills face. "Oh!" She stirs and the naughty side of me grins maliciously.

River must not have told her. Still worried about how they will react. I rest my eyes on him and he meets my gaze solidly yet then raises a finger behind his mother's back to his lips. He is asking for my indiscretion, my understanding, and my silence.

I shrug, on the inside and on the outside. His parents equal his problems. I have enough to deal with when it comes to my own.

River and I go inside and sit down at the same table as yesterday, yet it is not the same. The smiles and the jokes are no more. Instead, he takes great care to ensure that he sits across from me, that our knees never touch, and that when he shows me a problem, our fingers never accidently brush against one another. Even his gaze, where he places it, is guarded. Mostly, it is on the books or it follows the movements of the pencils. I notice how tense he is, how stiff is shoulders are and how his face is creased with concentration.

River's change is not so strange. For in the back of the church, she lurks, watching our every move, and listening to our every word. I have her spooked, scared, and nervous for her son's virtue. Her mama bear behavior causes me to wonder, even though I really shouldn't care; is she like this with every girl in River's proximity? Or, is there something about me that has her so riled up?

I debate on telling her that she has nothing to worry about, that I have no interest in her son, but I can't find the right words. Besides, I owe her no peace of mind. Let her stress and worry. In fact, maybe I'll even flirt with River just to get a reaction out of her… just for fun… to see what River would say or do… just for fun… not for any other reason.


	7. We are Not friends!

Honestly, I wasn't going to post any more chapters to this story.

The only reason you are reading this right now is because someone posted a review today.

So if are reading this and enjoy it, give your thanks to **0412934532**

Thanks for your support, Birgitta

All rights to original story which this one is **very loosely** based on belongs to Nicholas Sparks

**7.** **We are Not friends!**

I'm not sure if there is truly nothing to do or if River is not being fully straightforward with me. Whatever the truth, Thursday is spent on math. I suppose I am his new project, his charity object. I have no complaints. Imagine, me, bringing home a B in math or, even better, an A! My dad would just sink through the floor. He is due back Sunday. I've missed him and I know my mother has to. There has been no call from him since the night when they argued. Dad must be cooling off. Just as well, I guess. Perhaps they need this time apart to mend and …

"Cara, focus!"

I look up, across the table, at my tutor whose intelligent eyes are as always peering at me through thick lenses. "Sorry, teacher. I was dreaming about an A."

"Keep dreaming and it will stay a dream," he lectures and I roll my eyes at him. Yet, he is right. "Nothing will get handed to you, Cara. If you want something bad enough, you have to fight for it and put in the work."

I've heard this before. "Aren't you the clever one," I make fun.

He smirks, his shielded eyes gleaming. "Yeah, I am… lucky for you."

I am about to serve up another cocky comment when I hear his mother approaching. She never comes up but she lingers closely, watching and ensuring. The change is instant in River. All the joking and looseness disappears and our class turns to pure purpose. I shake it off. It's nothing personal and in fact, I prefer it this way. The more we focus on math, the better. River and I are not friends. Three more weeks and we will probably never speak again.

We break at 6 pm. Good thing 'cause my mind is swimming with math terms and equations. How I will be able to keep it all straight is a mathematical mystery all by itself. I want to make my father proud. I want him to think that I am capable and a good daughter. My brother had been good in math, very good, just like our father.

'_Why can't you be more like him?'_

My father's complaint, wish, and heart stabbing insult rings through my head. Not wanting to go down that path, I force it from my mind. Memories of the past are a bad thing. It is better to leave it there and keep moving forward. This is why mother drinks; to dull the ghosts of the past and be able to escape painful memories for a few blissful hours. This is why my father works and works and works; to keep himself so busy that there is no time to dwell. It also keeps him away from us, my mother and I, which is exactly what he wants. We are constant reminders of what used to be and can never be again.

I see it right away as I step through the front door. It is as if I have walked into the neighbor's house. Our house is supposed to be messy. My mother is supposed to be sleeping on the couch. There are supposed to be empty bottles on the living room table and there is definitely not supposed to be a welcoming aroma coming from the kitchen.

'_What the hell is going on here?'_

"Mom," I call out, a bit rattled and alarmed. Something is not right and my heart beat picks up. "Mom, is there someone here with you?"

My mother comes out from the kitchen, alone, with a welcoming smile on her clean and classy painted face. Her long beautiful blond hair is falling in well brushed waves over her chest and back. She is wearing a dress and an apron. In her hand, there is a cooking spoon stained with spices and broth.

"Mom… is dad already home?" I ask and look about the house for clues of an early return or a mystery guest. My mother shakes her head and returns to the stove. "So… what is going on?" I hesitate, not wanting to break the magic, yet needing to know. My mother should be passed out on the couch, not stirring in a pot. "What happened today?"

A smile my way before the focus is reshifted to the beef stew. "Hungry? Why don't you go put away your things? Dinner will be ready in 10."

I nod, not sure how to proceed in any other way. Whatever the reason, this is good…. Isn't it? I've got my mother back.

We eat, talk, laugh, and clean off the table together. I talk about school, math, and River. My mother raises an eyebrow when I talk of my tutor but I shrug it off with a chuckle, explaining out platonic arrangement and River's personal space policy. It feels like the old days. All that is missing is dad… and Josh.

I thought that I would dream of math. It makes sense since I am stressing over the test and it has preoccupied my thoughts all day. But, it is Josh that I dream about. I dream about his death and what led up to it. There had been signs. There had been clues. Afterwards, I can pin them all so clearly. But, I had been young and we had all been too trusting. Never again!

My mother is up when my alarm begins to beep. I know because the inside air carries the scents of coffee, eggs, and bacon. A cooked meal on a school day; how long has it been? I can't even remember. Usually, I get up alone and breakfast is a bowl of cereal or a bagel with philly. To walk into a lit up kitchen, finding a plate of food waiting for me, and having my mother sit down across from and wish me good luck on my test… it is all too much to even try to explain in words. Life has in one day flipped. Why? How?... Who cares?! Whatever the reason, whatever cost it may have, I don't care for I will gladly pay. This is turning into a perfect day and I will take it as a good omen. I will rock that test and when my father returns on Sunday, mom will be a changed woman and I will be a changed daughter. All will be perfect!

It's the mindset I go in and the day turns out that way. By lunch, I feel pretty indestructible. I feel as if nothing can bring me down. Everything is falling into place and…

"Is River Mill waving at you?"

"Huh?"

I look up from my lunch plate at So who is waiting for an answer with a disgusted leer. With my head still bowed, I look over and sure as hell, River has his hand raised waving… at me!

I shake my head, holding my gaze away from the Jesus table. "No," I deny, refusing to confess to our familiarity. My arrangement with River is not something that I want to make public and River should know this. "I don't know him. How would I know him?"

So shrugs, already bored with the subject, and zooms in on another group. "Kick me in the gut if I am wrong but I do believe Joey is looking this way."

Vaguely remembering this Joey, I follow to where So's eyes have landed and confirm So's suspicion; this Joey is looking our way. I turn to Anna, offering her a supportive smile. She smiles back, but her smile is brief and her eyes widen as Joey abandon his seat and makes his way to our table. I frown as I notice where his attention lies. Things are about to get weird.

"Hey!"

"Hi!" I reply, peering up at him as the rest of the girls stare at us. Possibly the whole cafeteria is staring, including River.

'_Why do I care if River sees?'_

"You're Cara. I'm Joey."

"Yeah… and?" I say, cocky and uncaring. I've met and been targeted by pretty boys before. "Is there something you want?"

Joey's face drops slightly and he begins to squirm uncomfortable. Next to me, Anna giggles and on the inside I join her in a victory girl power dance.

"Oh, I don't know," he finally manages to croak. He gives a quick flick of his head, making his boy band locks flip over to the side, and the action has a recharging effect on his ego. "I was hoping you might want to go out with me on Saturday."

All halts. It is such a simple question, a question I have been asked many times before and a reply should be easy enough to deliver. It is a yes or no. Yes if I find the boy appealing in any kind of way. No if I would rather spend my Saturday night shaving my armpits. Such a simple question, yet there are so many things and people to consider.

Refusing to feel rushed, I let my eyes wander up and down this Joey. He could easily be a member of a boy band: blond hair, muscular fit physique, inviting eyes and smile, and the promise of a good time in his tone and use of words… Any other place and other time and this would have been an easy Yes. But here and now with So wording NO with her lips, Anna grabbing my thigh with claw like grip under the table, and River, most likely, watching the whole spectacle …

'_Why do I care what River thinks?'_

"I can't this weekend, maybe the next."

I'm being a coward, or maybe just smart, and leaving the door cracked open. Disappointment and embarrassment is obvious as he turns and walks back to his table. Anna breaths out next to me and let go off my poor abused quad. So shows her approval by raising her hand over the table for a high five. Awkwardly, I oblige her and become the star in her childish girl power performance.

"Thanks," Anna whispers next to me and her appreciation helps me to swallow the rest of my lunch.

I have been the center of other people's agenda many times before and it is not something that I enjoy. No one wants to feel coerced and used. My choices should be mine and mine alone. Unfortunately, life is full of situations and events where our free will is not so free. Even as an adult, I will be forced to do and say things that I may not have chosen if it was fully up to me.

The clump in my throat doesn't go away until I walk into church and lay eyes on River. My test, and its accompanying results, is crushed in my grip. I haven't looked. It had felt pretty good, yet I do not dare to see for myself.

"Hey," he greets me, the smile he usually offers not present. I set down my backpack while trying to read his mood. "I waved today at lunch. Did you not see me?"

'_Oh, that's what he is pissed about. Think, Cara, think!_'

"I saw but… but I didn't know if you were waving at me. I thought you were waving to someone behind me. I didn't want to look like an idiot."

I grin sheeply at him and expect him to call me a poor liar, which I am.

He does the opposite. "Ok," he smiles, warmly, taking away all my worries. His smile widens, nearly turning into a laugh. "But now you know. So next time…"

"Right," I ensure him, lying again since I have no intention to wave back… ever.

'_We are not friends! Doesn't he know this?'_

He flicks a finger at my gripping hand. "So, how did you do?"

I sigh and hand it to him. "I haven't checked. Can't do it. Will you? Please?"

"You're being silly," he lets me know and I agree. Yet, he takes it and open up the folded over stack of papers. "C+, not bad."

I rip the paper from his hand so that I can see for myself. "A C!" I whine, not content and not pleased.

"What?"

I look up from the test which is clearly marked red with the disappointing result. "I was hoping for a B," I explain. He eyes me, not answering right away, evaluating me, 'causing me to frown. "Spill it!"

Calm amusement paints his face and lingers in his voice when he shares his thoughts on my reaction. "Two days ago, you got a D. Four days ago, you were failing… if that's not progress, I don't know what is. A C+, Cara, is awesome. And… it is only the beginning."

I nod, slowly and deliberately as I null. He is right. It is a huge improvement. I am doing great and by this rate, I'll have an A soon.

"Thank you," I say, a little late and a little guilt-ridden. I should have being saying this right away. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"I know," he teases, grinning wide.

Putting the test back in my backpack, I look about the church and find it put together. "So, boss, what fun things are we doing today? Everything looks done already."

"My mom came in early. She wants us to set up the kitchen and social hall, instead. Service is on Sunday and there is always a potluck after." He hesitates and I know what is coming. It is so obvious what is coming and so is my reply. "You should come. The whole town is practically here, including your cool friends… and Joey."

I ignore the last bit, since I have nothing to add to that subject and since it is none of River's business. "No, thanks. I don't do church." I exhale slowly and deeply, really hoping that he will not pursue.

Luckily, he doesn't. I wander off towards the kitchen and I follow like a good little worker. The kitchen is huge and white. Looking at it, nothing needs to be done. It is immaculate. Even the floors are sparkling white. Naturally, River knows exactly what to do and begins to maneuver me around to different stations. I oblige yet my mind is not on it. I can't wait to get home. Will my mother be the same new her? What does this mean? Shopping and pedicures tomorrow? I hope so. We haven't had a mother-daughter outing in years.

"What do you think?"

I look up, blank and clueless. Did River just ask me something?

"Sorry," I apologize, halting my task of spreading out a white perfectly ironed and starched table cloth. The hall holds 8 long rectangular tables and each of them must be covered. "I was daydreaming."

"Yeah, you do that a lot."

I continue my task as I wait for him to restate his questions. Meticulously, I run my long thin fingers over the cotton surface to smooth out every crevice. River's mom is particular and for some odd reason I want to please her. I guess I have a thing about moms. I watch my hands as they move and admire my nails which are painted in a bright red shade today. They look good against the whiteness of the cloth. Lost in the movement and the moment, I continue to glide them over in circular motions until I realize that the room is still quiet. River is yet to restate the question.

I look up to find River standing motionless across from me, watching my hands intently. Noticing that they have stopped, his gaze moves up my body until our eyes meet. There is a moment of nothing, no movement, no speech, and hardly even any breathing. The large room seems to shrink, bringing us closer. I want it end. It doesn't feel right. There's electricity and tingeling. There shouldn't be. There can't be.

"Well, this is nice! Very nice! Good job!"

River's mom. I have never been so happy about her snooping and sudden appearance. River snaps out of his current state and focuses in on his mom, breaking his link with me. I sneak a peek at him from a bent head and he comes off to me as lost and taken. He must be equally confused and appalled by the ill-placed tension. The whole thing was weird and something I want to forget as soon as possible. If there is to be sparks with someone, I would much rather the other person be someone I am attracted to… possibly Joey. He might be smug and shallow but come on, what good looking teenage boy isn't. Besides, River is just… off. He is not bad looking but he is not for me with this whole church thing, the good boy persona, and those glasses. I can't get past the glasses.

And we are not even friends.

I get home to a perfectly clean home, dinner cooking, and my mother still in her new fresh alert way. We spend the whole weekend together, exactly as I had hoped and envisioned: shopping, mani and pedi, movie, lunch, talking, laughing… By the time Sunday afternoon rolls around, I am on edge over my father coming home. I can't wait to tell him about my progress in school and for him to see mom's transformation.

But wait is what I do. Finally, at midnight, mom orders me to go to bed. I can hear the sadness in her eyes and voice. It nearly causes me to lose it but I clench together and shrug it off. Dad is working late or he got held up. He'll be home tomorrow. I am sure of it.

The next day, when I pull into a school parking spot, Joey happens to be parked right next to me. He drives some type of fancy foreign vehicle. Never been very good with remembering car brands but I do know its pricy. Am I impressed? Yeah, maybe a little.

"Hey! How was your weekend?" He asks and flashes my a smile that I am sure would make most girls swoon.

Not completely unaffected, I smile back. "It was good. How was yours?"

"Horrible. I kept thinking of you and crying over your dismissal."

" I highly doubt that," I say and walk off towards the entrance.

Not willing to drop it, he sprints up next to me and adjusts to my pace. "No seriously, I was heartbroken. I'm not used to being turned down," he claims with a chuckle. His laugh is genuine and I feel my defenses faltering a bit. "Look, I know that you are friends with Anna and I am sure that you have heard about…"

He doesn't finish and when I look over, I can see that his gaze is on his feet. Is it a trick or is he really sorry? Part of me wants to believe him and part of me is screaming _'traitor'_. There are these unwritten friend codes and I am definitely breaking at least one of them. He was an ass to Anna, humiliated her in front of everyone. I shouldn't even be considering… and yet I am.

Up at the top of the stairs, he holds the door open for me, gaining even more points, and we part ways. Throughout the day, we continuously bump into each other. Of course, I understand that is no coincidence. He is putting his moves in on me. Even though I haven't made my mind up yet, whether I am favorable or not, I do appreciate his effort.

The school day rush by. Doing the same thing over and over again tend to have that effect on time. I don't mind. I'm glad the school day is going by fast. I am eager to get home and see if mom has heard from dad. I could call but there is something holding me off. There is still this gnawing feeling inside of me. It's telling me that things are too good to be true. I fear that soon all will turn and, once again, I will get slammed to the ground.

"I waved again today and… I'm pretty sure you saw me."

Just like yesterday, I have barely stepped inside the church and River jumps me with an accusation. He has his arms folded across his chest, standing in an authority position. I realize that it doesn't suit him. I tease him about being my boss but he has never come across to me as bossy. Not until now. Am I a bad influence on him?

River waits, waits for a respond and I should tell him the truth; that I have no intention of ever making our acquaintance common knowledge. We have a secret arrangement which I believe is perfect. He has his life and friends, and I have mine. We should keep it that way. No need to mess with it.

"My dad didn't come home last night."

I'm not just telling him to distract him. I feel like I need to tell someone. It's been weighing on me all day. The girls at school wouldn't understand and the might judge. With River, I feel safe to share without him casting judgment and then there is also this confidentiality thing. Or, at least, I think it stretches to the Reverend's son.

River walks over to the table where we usually do math and pulls out a chair for me. Predictably, he sits down in the chair across. He is inviting me to share, to convey, and to get it off my chest. He will listen, fully, and without wrongful intent. Just like I was hoping he would.

"He was supposed to be home yesterday, around dinner time. He's been gone for a week or so, which isn't unusual but it's unusual for him not to come when he is supposed to. And he didn't call, as far as I know. My mom… my mom had it all prepared. You see, she… she used to… she doesn't normally…"

I can't tell him.

Kind brown eyes observe me without saying a word. He patiently waits for me to take the steps I need. Nervously, hesitantly, I bite my inner lip while considering telling him everything. How will it feel to let it all go? To let someone in and share the burden? River will gladly offer me his strength. I know he will. I have not known him long, yet this I do not doubt.

"Something happened to our family and it nearly tore us apart. None of us have been the same since. My mom… she… she fell the hardest and she has just recently gotten back on her feet."

Again, there is nothing. River only listens and watches, letting me chose what to share and what not to. No intruding questions, pushy responses, or judgmental body language. The need bubbles and I have to get it out. I shouldn't. My father will be furious. Please don't let me be wrong about River.

"My mother is an alcoholic. She's been that way since my brother committed suicide. The last two days, I've seen a change in her. Yet, I dare not hope it is permanent. And, now my father has not called or come home."

It is not until I stop that I realize that I have not taken a breath since starting to share. I inhale deeply, filling my deprived lungs with air. River stares, obviously speechless. He had not suspected and expected. Now, because of the position that I have put him in, he is forced to come up with some sort of response.

"I'm sorry, Cara. I didn't know."

It is all he says and it is perfectly enough. Somehow, he had known that it was all I needed for him to say. Mostly, I just wanted to share and for him to listen without judging. He has done just that.

When I get home, mom is still my mom but my dad never shows up. The same is true for Wednesday and for Thursday. River doesn't ask anything else and I am thankful. I have already shared too much. Our past is just that; our past. River is a stranger, an outside, and neither family nor dear friend. Yet, he keeps waving at me, trying to get me to establish a relationship outside our current arrangement. Despite being grateful, he is starting to piss me off. I mean… what the hell?

Joey has slowly lowered my defense and even worked his way into our group. I suppose what helped a lot was that Joey never comes over by himself. He brings several of his good looking friends which the girls have been very receptive to, even Anna. I am no longer a traitor in the girls' eyes and going on a date with Joey is now encouraged instead of forbidden.

"Is that a yes?" Joey asks and I nod. I am rewarded with a huge grin. "Yeah? Ok. Great. I'll pick you up at 7."

He backs away, not taking his eyes of me, and accidently bumps into one of his friends. I watch him walk all the way down the hallway until I can see him no more. As soon as he is out of view, I begin to doubt and regret. I really hope I am not making a mistake. Things are going so well. A boyfriend may mess it all up. Boys tend to do that.

"Cara, he finally asked you out," So squeals next to me and grabs my upper hand roughly. She begins to bounce up and down like a child on a sugar rush. "I can't believe it took him this long to…"

"Hi!"

So quits her dance of joy as quickly as she began and stares at the person who has just addressed me. Before I even turn around, I know who it is. However, I can't believe he is doing this to me. What the hell is he thinking? I guess I should have spelled it out to him. I should have done it in the church, when it was just the two of us. Now, I am going to have to do it in front of half the senior class.

'_Shit!'_

I rotate, slowly, and face him. His arms are folded again, across his chest, and he is evaluating me. This is a test, I realize. He is testing me!

Angry, I stare back with equal intensity. After a minute or so, what feels much longer, he finally nods and withdraws. My eyes are glued at his back and my heart beats with manic speed. So is saying something but I'm not listening. I can't hear her. I can't even see her.

2 hours later, I exit my car and approach the church. My feet do not step with my usual confidence. He is in there and he won't be the same River. Today, we were at a cross roads and I clearly did not choose the road he wanted me to. I am about to find out exactly how he feels about that.

"Hi!" I say as I walk in and find him waiting, arms crossed, stance wide, and features hard.

"Good enough to say hi to now?"

'_Here it comes.'_

"Seriously, River. What did you expect?" I snap, figuring we might as well get this over with. I might as well spell out the rules so that I don't have to embarrass him again. "We are not friends, River!" I point out bluntly. No more tiptoeing. "You do know this, don't you? I mean, we hang out here because of your father's 'arrangement' and you help me with my math… which I am really thankful for… don't get me wrong on that… but we are not friends."

"I see," he says and there is a tiny stab at my heart.

I ignore it and continue, just so that he is absolutely clear on where we stand. "I 'm not gonna come by your house for a visit, I'm not gonna call you, I'm not gonna meet you up for a movie or a cone, I'm not gonna…

"… acknowledge that I know you in the hallway or wave back in the cafeteria," he finishes, proving that he's got it. With both hands he reaches up and removes his glass so that his eyes and mine can meet without interference. "You did see me wave this week and you knew that I was waving at you… didn't you, Cara?"

His tone is low and steady, yet there is anger and hurt. I have caused this.

"Yes," I admit while holding his gaze. There is a twitch right below his left eye. "But, I don't see the issue. You have your people and I have mine."

He frowns, viewing me as I am a fool. "What?" He questions. "Are we from different specifies? What is this _your people_ and mine? Aren't we all people?" He holds while observing me, his arms folding across his chest with his new authority and I might have shrunk just a tad. "You know, these _people _of yours, they come every Sunday for service. Every Sunday, they sit amongst _my people_, they listen to _my father_, and they answer back when addressed by _one of us_."

I stare back at him, holding my ground, holding my belief, and getting ready to state my point. "They do it because they are forced. They are not here because they want to. This is what church does. It forces you to do things that you do not want to and if you try to resist, it threatens you with hell and eternal damnation."

His frown deepens. "What? What are you talking about, Cara?"

No way! No way am I talking about any of it. I shrug, refusing to go any further. The way I see it, we are done. We have both stated our views and it is over. We know where we stand now so…

"What do you want me to do? Help you set up the kitchen or what?"

He glares at me, his chest rising exaggeratedly under his grey t-shirt. "No," he scowls. "You can go home. I've got it."

I raise an eyebrow. "Seriously?" I ask with a touch of sarcasm. He doesn't budge and I huff, equally pissed. "Don't mind if I do. I have a date… with Joey."

I leave him standing there gaping and with every step I can feel his eyes burning into my head. My hand trembles as I open up the door to my car and get in. Unable to drive, I sit behind the wheel for a moment to collect my bearing. I should feel relieved. The record is set straight. It's done.

So why do I feel like shit?


	8. Just call me Scarlett

Hope you like chapter 8. If you do – please review.

Thanks, Birgitta

**Just call me Scarlett **

"You're not having a good time, are you?" Joey asks and I hurry to shake my head, objecting. Yet, it is no good. "Cara, you've been looking bored all night. What's up?"

He deserves better. "I'm sorry. I'm just distracted. I got in a fight earlier with someone and I feel kind of bad about it. Actually, I'm surprised how bad I feel about it."

He nods, obviously relieved regarding my answer and confession. "Ok, I get it. Was it So? In that case, I wouldn't worry about it. She's a bitch!"

"That's not very nice," I tell him, even though he is somewhat right. She did set me up and I am in this mess with River because of her. "And no, it wasn't So or any of the girls. It happened after school."

He nods again, thinking he knows. "Your parents… right! I argue with my parents all the time. They can be real…"

Not wanting to hear him bad-talk his parents, I quickly change the subject. "Do you go to church?" I ask, making him quit talking abruptly. Taken aback, he stares at me with a deep crevices forming between his eyebrows. "I mean, do you go to Sunday service?" He nods, slowly, probably wondering where I am headed with my strange interrogation. "To Reverend Mills' service?"

"Yeeeees," he answers, drawing out his reply, while eyeing me suspiciously. "Why? Why do you ask?"

That is a good question. Why am I asking?

I shrug, acting indifferent, and then lie. "Just curious what you are doing on Sunday."

His face lights up with a huge grin. "Already fishing for another date, huh?"

I smile back and reach for my drink as I search my feelings. Do I want to go on another date with him? Openly, to Joey's amusement, I look him over and evaluate his total score. He is very nice to look at, popular, Captain of the basketball team, not an idiot, knows how to dress, drives a sporty car, has money to take me out…

With my mind made up, the score tallied in his favor, I let him know where he stands. "Absolutely, I would love to go on another date with you. And, I won't be distracted any more tonight. I promise."

I keep my promise and at my front door, as he drops me off, I kiss him back feverishly. It feels good to have someone again for it's been a while. As Joey's lips press against mine, first softly and then increasingly more hungry, all thoughts of River fade. After all, he is nothing. And, I only have two more weeks to endure with him. The only thing I am worried about though is my math. I want that A!

I end up seeing Joey on both Saturday and Sunday so by Monday morning, the two of us are a couple. All eyes are on us as we walk up to school together. Joey holds the door open for me and even though I am an independent girl, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't like it. As soon as we seperate, So is all questions and I answer as many as I feel like. Throughout the day, I keep an eye out for River and I do see him several times. Each time, he makes no attempt at trying to converse. In fact, he acts as if he can't see him… he acts like me.

As the day passes, I get more and more antsy. There is a cramp like sensation in my gut and I feel on edge. I just want to get it over with. Face him, finish my two weeks, and be done with it. He has no reason to be angry. I did nothing wrong except tell the truth.

"Hi," I say to his back and wait for him to turn. He doesn't and anger begins to replace the nervousness. "Did you have a good weekend?"

"What do you care?" He snaps and I almost laugh.

"Is this a hissy fit?" I ask and that has an effect for he turns around to glare. "Good, you're responding. So, what is there to do? I'd like to get it done so I can get out of here."

"Then go."

I appraise him and lift an eyebrow. "Go? Isn't there gum to peel off or bibles to place?"

Hard stare back. "I've got it. Go! I'm sure you have plans."

He doesn't say it but I can read it just as well on his face. He is thinking I have a date with Joey. There is no way he is jealous so this is something else. Is it a sin thing? Jeez, it's not like we're having sex or anything… at least not yet.

"You seriously want me to leave? What about your father?"

I am worried that he might think that I broke our arrangement and will tell the manager… or worse, tell my dad… if they can get a hold of him. He still haven't come home or called, as far as I know. There is definitely something up but mom won't tell me. My family is good about keeping secrets. However, usually, I am in on it too.

"Just go. Don't worry about it. I'll tell him I didn't need you."

'_I didn't need you_,' I repeat in my head as I leave. For whatever reason, that sentence bothers me. Why would he say it like that? And, why does it feel so wrong?

At home, I sit down with my math and try to understand this week's work on my own. It is a struggle without River's help. He made it seem so simple and he just knew how to explain it so that I would understand. The practice test is on Wednesday and the test Friday. Tomorrow, River has to help me. I can't afford to miss any more tutoring lessons with him. Whatever fit he is going through, he'd better get over it.

Next morning, Joey wants to pick me up. I have to tell him no because I need my own car. He asks questions and I end up lying. It's not a great start to our relationship but what else can I do. I can't tell him I am hanging out with River at the church.

For the entire day, River ends up ignoring me again and again, and each time, I get more and more pissed. Who does he think he is, giving me the nose-up? Seriously!

By the time I come face to face with him, I am boiling. I know I need to be nice if he is to commence the lessons, but I don't seem to be able to get a handle on myself. He has managed to get under my skin and no matter how much I try to remove him, he is stuck there.

"Why are you here? I thought I made myself clear yesterday that I don't need you," he says, starting off the duel.

"Look," I growl, not liking his tone, his expression, or his…

'_Wait a minute_," I think as I see.

"Did you get contacts?"

He looks down at the floor briefly before snapping his head back up and facing me with firmness. "Yes."

"Why?" I demand to know since he had been so adamant about keeping his glasses. Wasn't he the one who a week or so ago dealt me a long speech about why his ugly glasses didn't matter? "I thought inner beauty was the important thing, not accessories or…"

"What do you want?"

I halt, surprised, wondering if it is a trick question. "I am here to work. I have a deal with your father. And…" He stares at me and I stare back. Honesty… just say it. "… I need your help with math. We had a deal," I remind him, even though I am quite sure he needs no reminding. He continues to stare and I remind him even further. "You're the one who said we had to be standoffish, not touch, get too close, kiss, fall in love… Remember?"

"I remember," he answers, yet his tone is still cool.

"So…" I fish, not understanding what his problem is. All this for not returning a 'hi'. "… are we good? Can we get back to what we were?"

He huffs and walks away to grab a pile of bibles. "Which was what, being non friends, or secret friends? Friends when it is convenient to you? Have you always been this selfish and conceited, Cara?"

His words cut through me, right to the heart. Tears begin to burn behind my eyelids and I am glad that he isn't looking at me. Unable to reply, fearing that I have lost control over my voice, I run outside and to my car. With a rev, I take off and speed home. My mother is watching a movie on the couch and I snuggle up to her. I don't tell her, I just enjoy her closeness and comfort. At least this is right. All other things can fall to pieces as long as my mother remains this way.

'_I am not selfish or conceited_,' I think sourly and lean my head onto my mother's shoulder.

My mom is watching "Gone with the wind", her favorite movie. She has probably seen it over a hundred times. I never saw the appeal. The ending sucks. It is a horribly depressing end to a romance movie. But, it does make sense because Scarlett was a bitch to Brett. She was selfish and conceited, thinking only of herself. I am nothing like her… nothing.

Yet, something stabs and there are parallels. I have used River and dismissed him while panting over Joey. I have only thought of my agenda, what I want and need. And, my dissing of River was because I was conceited. I didn't want anyone to know that I knew him.

"Are you alright, honey?" My mother asks as I stand up. "You don't want to finish watching?"

I lean down to kiss her cheek goodnight. "No, I'm tired. Besides, I know how it ends."

Wednesday, I completely bomb the math test. I couldn't get my mind to focus and it resulted in a pitiful D. And, I was doing so good. I was on my way towards an A.

At lunch, I notice that River has moved from his normal seat to a seat where his back is to me. The action is another slap across my face. He is really proving a point and portraying Brett perfectly. It is almost as if I can hear River tell me; '_Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn_.'

I never would have thought this of him. He is a good Christian boy. And, the way he listened to me about my mother…

'_My mother…. he knows my secret about my mother. What if he_?' I gasp. I stare at his back; proud and erect. '_No_,' I settle, no matter his coldness. '_He wouldn't do that_.'

I can't exactly explain how I know this. Yet, I am certain. What was told to him in confidence will stay between us. My gaze drifts across the round table at my boyfriend and friends. Can I say the same of them? No, I can't. If Joey and I broke up, I wouldn't be surprised if he used information he had on me to hurt me. So why am I with him?

Refusing to give up and accepting a D, I stay up till past midnight studying. I didn't go by the church. There was no point. River has made it clear that I am not wanted. I should be happy about this… I should. No more cleaning, arranging, placing, scraping, weeding… and whatever else River decides for me to do. Yet, I realize, to my astonishment, that I actually miss it… all of it.

Thursday moves by in the same track as Wednesday and it ends up being another late night. Waking up Friday morning, I know with certainty that I am not going to do well. I seem unable to remember anything, I haven't gotten enough sleep, and I feel as if I am coming down with something. The only positive thing is mom declaring at breakfast that she is going to the hairdresser. Dad called last night, finally, and said that he would be home Sunday and that he wanted her to go out and pamper herself. My mother is all smiles and it rubs off a little.

Math class comes too quickly. Anxious, on pins, I sit down at my desk. Looking down, I notice that my fingers are trembling. My eyes wander up and meet River's. Just before he turns back around and breaks the connection, I imagine that I see concern in his face. But, I must be wrong because he is Brett and he frankly doesn't give a damn. Why would he? I'm been a spoiled self-involved Scarlett towards him and he clearly detest me now. I can't blame him.

'_Just call me Scarlett'_

When the corrected test is placed before me, I do not look. I can't. My father is coming home Sunday and I am most likely bringing home a D. Not what I wanted. Yet, that's just the thing; it's not all about what I want. Maybe if I would have shown more interest in what River wants. Maybe I could have tried it once… go to church… just because he has been a good… friend.

'_Perhaps we are friends, after all._'

"You're not going to look?" Joey asks at lunch, pointing at the test, and I shake my head no. "What's the big deal? The result only counts for 5% of your grade. Look, I got a C. Totally acceptable."

"I bet River got an A," I accidently assume.

Joey huffs and looks over at their table. "Yeah, but River Mills is a Jesus freak. Who cares what he got?"

'_I care,_' my mind whispers.

"I wanted an A. My dad comes home on Sunday and I wanted to make him proud," I tell him because I want to hear what he will say. Perhaps I am testing him. "He's been gone for a few weeks."

Joey gives me a bored nonchalant eye roll. "Who gives a shit what your parents think? I sure as hell don't," he declares and high fives his number one sitting next to him. I shrug and he pulls me closer. "Hey! Forget about what your dad thinks. I'm proud of you whatever you got."

He plants a kiss hard on my kiss, causing cheers and claps around the table. Embarrassed, I look around the room and find River watching. I figure he will turn right back around, put his back to me, but he doesn't. Just like the time before, at the church, my gaze disappears into his and the room shrinks. The same pull and sensation fills me, and I can feel my body being drawn to his.

"Cara! Cara! Snap out of it!"

Joey is shaking my shoulders, roughly, and I return to myself. "I don't feel so good," I manage to say, telling the truth. My head is spinning and I feel nauseated. "I think I have to go home."

On unsturdy legs, I get up and walk out of the cafeteria. Joey stands up to watch me leave but he never offers to drive me home. Wouldn't a boyfriend at least have offered? Or, walked me to my car? Or, something? Anything?

I resist the urge to look over my shoulder to see if he is watching… River. What are his thoughts? Did he feel it too? Why does that happen between us? I've never felt anything like that before. It is so strange and I want answers but I can't ask him. I can't ask him anything because we are not friends and he hates me.

Once outside, my stomach flips and I have to fold over. I'm thankful there is a bush next to me to hide behind. I throw up my entire lunch and probably breakfast. My legs can at this point hardly carry me, yet I make it somehow to my car. Twice on the way home, I have to stop. My hands on the steering wheels are trembling, there are tears in my eyes, and my back is killing me. I hate throwing up!

No one should be home. Dad won't be back till Sunday and mom is getting her hair pretty. Yet, when I pull up there is a car in the driveway. It's dad's. He must have gotten home early. Despite feeling horrible, I feel my spirit lifting. Dad is home!

Excited, I rush to the door and swing it open. I want to give him a big hug and tell him… I freeze in the doorway, front door wide open, as I see the bags piled up in the foyer. My backpack drops from my shoulder and hits the floor heavily to my side. The sound alerts my father and he comes out of the master bedroom to stare at me.

Seeing my father with a suitcase in each hand, knowing what it means, causes my stomach to turn over once again and I run for the bathroom. While I bend over the toilet, he leans against the frame and watches me. Tears fall, both because of vomiting and because of my father's coolness. I am losing my father… yet, perhaps I lost him many years ago and I just never wanted to fess up to it.

"What are you doing home? You are supposed to be in school?"

His question, completely insensitive and dense, replaces some of the pain for anger. "What do you think, dad? I'm not feeling good!" I snap, disrespecting him but I believe the situation calls for it. I rise and the tears are now gushing. "Are you leaving?"

He turns, turning his back on me, and walks down the hallway to all his bags. "Yes."

I trail him, holding on to wall for support, while my mind spins. I am trying to come up with a way to stop him, to get him to stay. I can't lose my dad. I can't! What can I do? What can I say?

"Dad, why?" I beg to know just as he opens the door with his hands loaded with bags.

He doesn't even look at me when he answers. "You know why." He takes a few steps out but then holds. Still not looking at me, he adds with voice choking. "Life is too short to be miserable, Cara. Remember that! Don't live your life with regrets." He finally turns and I can see his eyes glistering. Pain equal my own paints his face. "I love you, honey. I'll talk to you soon."

He shuts the door and I collapse to the floor below. Exhausted from everything that has taken place, I let my eyelids drop and I doze off. Over two hours later, I wake up to find the house still empty. Mom is still not home. Does she know? Does she know that dad is leaving her?

Somehow, I force myself up to standing and grab my cell from my bag. With shaky fingers, I press the phone icon next to Joey's photo. I have to talk to someone, get the hurt out of me before I can face my mom. If I fall apart in front of her, how will it affect her? What if she goes back to her old self? Who will I have then? I can't lose them both.

"Cara? How are you feeling?"

By the sound of his voice on the other line, I swallow hard and try to collect myself enough to respond. "My dad is leaving us, Joey. I came home and he was packing his things. He's gone."

I don't expect much. Just for him to say that he is sorry, that he understands my hurt, and for him to listen to me vent.

It was too much to ask for. "Well, good for you. It's his loss. Shit, I wish my dad wou…"

Without any desire to listen anymore, I hang up midsentence. Seconds later, he calls back but I don't answer. He rings again and again and… Once he realizes that I am not going to pick up, he resorts to text messages. Feeling drained and disappointed, I ignore it all. Joey was the wrong one to turn to. He isn't sensitive and understanding like…

I bury my face into my palms as I contemplate. It's a bad idea, but I need to talk to someone and I can't think of anyone better. 17 minutes exactly, I am walking up to the church and push open the heavy wooden door. Surprised, he whips around and eyes me as I come towards him.

"Hi, River," I say and hope that he is in a forgiving mood.


	9. Remember the Rules, Cara!

Chapter 9.

Who is ready for things to start heating up?

Let me know what you think, Birgitta

**Remember the Rules, Cara!**

"What are you doing here? I don't…

I hold up my hand, stopping him. "I know. You don't need me. Please, can I just…" I wait to see if he is going to tell me to leave and chase me out. He doesn't say anything or move so I dare to continue. "River, I am so sorry. You were right on everything. We are friends… _were _friends… and I am selfish and conceited. Just call me Scarlett. But, I'd like to make things right. How can I make it right? I'll do anything. I'll say hi in the hallway, I'll wave in the cafeteria, whatever you want, just… forgive me… please. Everything has fallen apart since I lost you."

He says nothing, simple stares, and the nausea returns. I shift my stance, widening my legs, yet it too late. Unable to stable myself, I sway and nearly fall. Strong steady arms grab me and hold me upright… River.

"Hey, you alright? Here, sit down."

River leads me to a chair, my usual math chair, and I sit down heavily. "Thank you."

River shakes it off, apparently uncomfortable by my gratitude or closeness, and takes the chair next to me. His usual seat is the one across so I am rather shocked. Concerned, he evaluates me before rising and heading off to the back. A minute or so later, he returns with a glass of ice water. With gratefulness, I accept it and take a big gulp. The dizziness is part due to dehydration.

"I've been throwing up," I croak, my throat still dry, and I take another swig.

River nods as he watches me. "I saw you leave at lunch. I wanted to follow you but I didn't think you would want me to."

"That would have been ok. I would have like that."

A small smile across his lips and my heart lifts. It has been days since I've seen it, since I ruined it all. I've missed this side of him. If he has forgiven me already, I am not surprised. And, it has nothing to do with me. River is a good person; that is why he has so easily brushed aside my horrible behavior.

"You should go home if you are not feeling good, Cara. You should rest. I'll drive you if you want me to."

He is so sweet but… "I don't want to go home. Not yet. I can't face her."

The confession is on the horizon. I am sharing with River like I have never shared with anyone. It isn't easy. There have been too many years living in silence and secrecy. My foot begins to showcase my inner struggle by shaking under the table.

River places a hand over my knee to steady my leg and I freeze by the feel of his touch. "Hey, what's going on? Why can't you go home?"

Preparing to tell him, I exhale slowly to even my voice. "When I pulled up earlier, coming home, my dad's car was in our driveway."

River smiles widely, not understanding yet. "That's good, right? He's back home again?"

I shake my head. "No, River. Not home. He was only there to collect his things. He's leaving us. He's divorcing my mom."

Smile gone. "I'm so sorry."

It's exactly what I needed to hear to continue. "I don't know if my mom knows. And I'm scared, River. I'm scared that she is going to go back to drinking and neglecting me. I can't lose them both. I can't make it alone."

"You'll never be alone, Cara."

His hand comes up to cradle the back of my head and he leans me into his shoulder. Accepting his strength and support, I surrender myself to him. It feels good to completely let go and allow myself to crumble, if only for a little while. This is what I had hoped for with Joey, for him to be my rock, but he had not provided what I needed. He had not understood.

With tears falling and nose running, I pull away embarrassed. "Sorry, your shirt," I say and point to a wet spot on his shoulder. Roughly and unladylike, I wipe off the wetness on my face. "Thank you… for this… and for forgiving me."

"There's nothing to forgive," he answers with chivalry. He chuckles, now the embarrassed one. "I was acting childish and yes, I threw a fit. It was wrong of me to put you in that position. So, I'm sorry too."

I'm able to offer him a smile since my insides are starting to stable. From my bag, I pull out a package of crackers and I begin to nibble carefully. River gets up to finish up his work, giving me time to check my messages. There are several from Joey, which I ignore, and one from mom. I click it, my finger trembling, and her text brings tears to my eyes again; '_Everything is going to be alright, honey._'

I exhale and the world clears. Mom is right; it is going to be alright. After putting away the cell, I join River to see if he needs any help. He shakes his head at me and points to the chair. With a scowl, I give in and follow his advice. Instead, I pull out the test result and lay it on the table.

"So, how did it go?" River sits down next to me again and gives my test a tap with his pointer. Our eyes meet and he knows. "You didn't look?" He nods his head, again understanding. He just gets me. "Ok, so can I look?"

I shrug, pretending to be indifferent, but I hold my breath. My insides clamp up as I watch him unfold the paper stack. He frowns as he reads, biting his side bottom inner lip, and I cringe. It is not good.

"D-," he reveals and show me the dreaded letter circled and written in red. I lean my face into my palms in shame. "Hey," he says, places a hand on my one shoulder, and I dare to raise my head. His voice is cheery and full of hope. "It's a step back, but no problem. Next week, we'll move a step forward again and the next week…"

"So, you're still going to tutor me?"

He stops, removes his hand, and tilts his head to the side. "Yeah," he answers hesitantly. A tiny smile as he points at the test, insinuating. "You need it and we're friends… right?"

"Right," I agree and I like saying it.

He laughs and I narrow my eyes at him, causing him to laugh louder. "Don't get mad but…" I fake a growl, increasing his amusement. "… can I ask what happen." He stops to open the test to the third page and point at a question. I can tell that math really excites him for his breathing has picked up and he is squirming in the seat. "Like here, right here, we went over this. You had this. You knew it. What happened?"

I shrug, half embarrassed by my own math stupidity and half captivated by his excitement over math. "I don't know. It just made sense when you explained it. Without you, everything just fell apart. I guess I need you."

He freezes, his breathing faltering briefly, and our eyes lock. I smile, encouragingly, but he doesn't smile back. For some reason, his deep brown has a way of drawing me in, holding me, seizing me… especially now since he has contacts.

Contacts! He has contacts now, I recall, and also recall how he shut me down last night I asked about it. It's because he was mad at me. Now, we are back to being friends and I can ask him.

"Seriously," I start and grin. He blinks, returning to reality and out of his dream state. "Did you get contact because of what I said, because I thought they were ugly?" I demand to know, pushing him up against a wall. He gets ready to speak and I hurry to remind me. "Don't lie. We are in church, after all."

His mouth pops open, taken aback, and I can also hear the wheels turning and his mind debating.

'_Had he almost lied, and in church? Whatever would his mother have said?'_

He looks down, at his hands which are tightly knit and grinding nervously. "I had never given contacts a try. And when you said… Then, I try them and they felt ok. So, I thought… Anyway…"

"Well you look great, River. Hot almost." Not sure why I said the last. Maybe it was just to mess with him… or maybe because it is the truth. "So, you do care about outer beauty and the use of accessories. Guess I'm not the only one who is conceited."

No comment except for another apology for something I've already forgiven him for. "I'm sorry I called you selfish and conceited. You're not."

I shrug, disagreeing and deeming it not the end of the world. "Yeah, I am. Just call my Scarlett."

He holds up a hand, asking for an explanation. "You said that before too, when you were apologizing. What does that mean '_call me Scarlett_?' Who is Scarlett?"

Flabbergasted I take back me proclaiming him a genius. "Scarlett! Scarlett O'Hara from Gone with the Wind. Duh!" I laugh, feeling rather smug actually.

He rolls his eyes at me. "You are no Scarlett."

"I am. I was being a total bitch to you," I admit.

"You were not and don't curse in church."

'_Is he serious?'_

I laugh out loud and my astonished glee bounces around the open space. "Bitch is not a curse word, River. It is a female dog or an ill-mannered female, or an ill-mannered female dog." He shakes his head at me, deeming me impossible. I somewhat agree with this. "I am Scarlett!" I settle once more, leaving no room for argument. "… And, you are my Brett," I boldly add, also indisputably. His face drains of all humor which I decide to ignore and continue. "Except you accepted my apology and wasn't all like '_Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn'_. Thank you for that." He is still staring, looking rather shocked. "What? What did I say?"

He swallows hard and then gets up to move to the chair across. "You do remember the rules… don't you… for us?" He inquires and points to the two of us. I showcase my confusion and he specifies. "I can never be your Brett. We can talk, hang out, study math… but that is it."

I evaluate him, study him as he sits there looking all pale and wide-eyed. "We just became friends again. Slow down!" I joke but somehow it doesn't come off as funny. This is real and serious… and for some reason… really pissing me off. "Why? I demand to know, out of interest and because I am irritated with his obvious line drawn.

He squirms, his hands once again claiming his attention. "This is an old town, Cara. Old traditions still holds here and things are done by the old ways. We are to behave a certain way, especially around girls. For instance, my mother would have been here if she had known you would show up. She thinks you are all done here and I'd be lying if I said she was saddened by this."

I am not shocked by any means. His mother has clearly shown how she feels about me.

"Cara, I am not allowed to have interaction until I marry."

My mouth falls open. "Are you saying that you're a virgin?"

"Yes… aren't you?" The concern in his face, voice, and entire body language is obvious.

For a moment, I consider answering him differently but then I dismiss my gut and say what I normally say. "Of course not!"

I nods, slowly, settling whatever his mind was battling. "Then that's another reason why it could never be."

"Never be what?" I ask, not quite following.

I see sadness and defeat. "Never mind. It doesn't matter, Cara. So are you busy this weekend or are you going out?"

I know where he is headed with this one. "Is this your way of asking if I am going on a date with Joey?" He doesn't answer but he doesn't need to. On this subject, he is an open book. "I was supposed to," I share and pick up my cell. I hold it up and push to the numerous unanswered texts. "He is pissed at me because I hung up in his ear and have ignored his messages for hours."

River displays a small smile and seems happy with this. "Why did you hang up on him?"

"Cause he didn't understand like you did. He didn't say what I needed to hear like you did. While you did everything right, he was an ass."

"Don't curse in church, Cara," he scolds me, yet I can tell that he is pleased with my response.

I roll my eyes at him like a typical rebellious teenager and correct him. "Ass is not a curse word, River. It is a donkey or a backside, or a donkey's backside."

He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. "You are impossible."

'_You have no idea,_' I warm him in my head.

I don't know what is going on with River and this non-interaction thing, but I do know one thing. I have never been very good about playing by the rules. Forbidden fruit has always been my weakness and River has just declared himself forbidden fruit.

'… _remember the rules…"_ River words echo in my head, increasing my curiosity and the naughty rebel in me.


	10. A Threat

Thank you for reading and reviewing, Birgitta

**A Threat.**

"Where have you been, honey?"

Mom is on the couch, pale and red eyed. She has been crying and worrying. Part of it is my fault. I have at least added to her pain and hardship. Yet, I can't be sorry… I have River back.

"I was with River at the church. I needed to talk to someone."

I sit down next to her and she pulls me close. No tears fall from my eyes. Somehow, everything feels like it is going to be alright. I know who to thank for that.

"Your father called. He told me that you came home."

I nod against her shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, yet there is no anger or hurt.

"It wasn't your burden to carry, Cara. You are still a child… my child. I have not been a good mother. But, I want to change that. It's just going to be you and me from now on… can we make that work?"

I nod again and this time, there are tears. Needing her to know, really know, I reposition and pull her into a real hug. My arms come around her neck and I embrace her like I used to do when I was just a little girl. Right here, at this very moment, it is as if I am only 10 years old, maybe even 5. I feel small, vulnerable, and it's been a long time since I let myself feel that way. It's been even longer since my mom has been the protective and supportive one.

"Has he met someone else?" I ask, even though it probably will hurt her to speak of it. I guess I just have to know. "Where is he going to live?"

"Yes… he has. He'll tell you." She pauses and gets off the couch. I follow her every move and watch her facial expression carefully. "He wants to set up visitations."

I shake my head, huffing outraged. "No!" I declare firmly. The idea brings on the nausea that I thought had passed. "He left us, me. He made a choice and now he has to live with it. I have no desire to meet with his new woman."

"Cara…" mom tries.

Tired and done, I cut her off. "Mom, I love you and we will make this work. It's you and I now. Let's just leave it at that. I'm going to bed. Are you alright?"

I rise and mom gives me a kiss goodnight. "You go to bed and get your rest. You need time… we all need time."

'_Time,'_ I mull as I walk to my room. _'Time changes everything is what they say… and it is true.'_

My dad is still on my mind as I wake up the next morning. I keep trying to imagine his new woman. Will I like her? Will I allow myself to like her? Do I even want to meet with dad again? He has betrayed us. Mom stays quiet and lets me think. Eventually, she will bring up the subject again but not today and I am grateful. Time… I do need time to process and to decide what I want to do. It's my decision.

On the way to school, I listen to a mix River made me. He gave it to me over a week ago, before the mess. I had tossed it into the car, not caring. Thinking back, I'm not even sure if I said yes. What was wrong with me? How can one person change so much in one week?

'_Crazy!'_

Up ahead a few spaces, I see River digging in his trunk and there is an instant need to show him that I have changed. "Hi!"

River turns to look at me, deep frown in between his brows as he surveys our surrounding. We are in the parking lot at school, fellow students everywhere. Last week, I never would have come up, I never would have said hi, and I never would have wanted anyone to see that I know him.

"Hi!" He answers plainly and then turns back to his trunk.

Smiling, since I know what he is doing, I walk around and peek into the trunk. "What's so fascinating?" I ask and lean in so that my side brushes against his. He flinches and moves, making my smile widen. "What is this? Music notes? I didn't know you play!"

He eyes the notes in my hand. "You never asked." His replies are short and blunt, as if he wants to get rid of me. I am not offended because I am aware of the reason. "Cara, you're fine. We are fine. You don't have to do this."

He is watching me, his face closer to mine than normally. Perhaps, it's because his mother is not watching.

"What instrument?" I ask, ignoring what he has said.

He shakes his head and takes the notes from me, our fingers accidently touching. There is a charge, a surge, and my lips automatically separate. For just a moment, a brief instant, my breathing turns deeper and more strained. Whether he has felt the same or noticed my reaction, I do not know for he slams the trunk and takes off. I remain in the same spot, watching him walk away for I can't get my limbs to obey. They won't move. I can't move.

"Cara!" Someone is calling my name from behind, yet I lack the ability to rotate. Now with irritation, my name is called out again. "CARA!"

Joey places himself in front of me, his blue eyes piercing me with anger. I blink and my muscles come back to life. Looking past Joey's shoulder, I see River. He has not turned or responded in any way. Disappointment hits me… not sure why.

"Yes," I answer, not the slightest intimidated or rattled. This is about yesterday. "Why are you yelling?"

He gapes, losing focus for a second. "Why didn't you answer me, now and yesterday? I called and I texted, several times. And, you hung up on me… midsentence… in my ear."

He waits, arms folded across chest, glaring pissed. Apparently, my sickness yesterday and my father's leaving are of no interest. His wounded pride is more important. That's fine. I think I have him pretty figured out by now.

"Sorry," I simply reply and walk past him, ready to get to school.

He haste to catch back up with me and starts demanding an explanation. I am barely listening. There is nothing to say. I expected more from him and he wasn't able to deliver. Perhaps it was unfair of me to assume that he would be able to give me what I needed. It is not in him. It is not who he is. He is not capable. Not like someone else is.

"Hi!"

I am at River's locker and he looks over his shoulder slowly, again with the questioning frown. "Twice in one day, Cara? I told you, we're fine. You don't have to."

"I know. I want to."

I smile and he squirms, oddly uncomfortable. "Ok…" I settle, puzzled by his behavior. "I'll see you afterschool?"

"Same time, same place, like always. And Cara…" he adds just as he leaves me standing by his locker. "… last week for you and then you're free."

River is right. This is the last week of my "punishment". Not sure if it will mean that I am free. Not sure if I want to be "free".

The day snails on. Joey continues to be in my face and at lunch River never throws a glance my way. He is trying to protect me and my image, not that I really have one. I'm the new kid, the one who is in with the popular girls, and the one dating Joey. It's all true, yet it is not me. Out of everyone at school, River is the only one who has seen and heard part of the truth. Underneath, I'm not so impressive or cool… but, in all actuality, who really is? Under the surface and the facade, we are all humans who have weaknesses, insecurities, and skeletons. We all have things that we are ashamed of and that we wish to keep hidden. Although, letting someone in, someone trustworthy, can relieve some of the pain and hardship. To find such a person is not ease and once found, one should never let that person go.

River is not at the church when I arrive. Awkward, not sure what to do or how to act, I wander around aimlessly and stumble into his mother. Neither of them, she and River, has made a secret of her dislike. What exactly I have done is not as clear. I am threat, I guess, which is actually rather appealing.

"Mrs. Mills, how are you? You look lovely today." I am sweet talking her, trying to win her over. Not that I think I'll have any luck. "Where is River?" I ask when no reply or even acknowledgement is given.

"I sent him on an errand. I thought you and I could work for a bit."

Right away as she says it, I know that I am in for it. And sure as heck I am. By the end of the second hour, it has become crystal clear that River's mom is trying to discourage me from coming back. She sure wants me out of her son's life. I'm a threat, in her eyes… I kind of like the idea.

Just as I am about to leave, River comes rushing in through the door. He is breathing heavy, like he's been running. Not able to slow down he runs into me and I have to grab his upper arms to stable myself. For the few seconds that I am allowed to be this close to him, my brain manages to register several things: there is a soft trace of Hugo Boss, he likes to chew spearmint gum, and his arms are as strong as Joey's… then glances over my shoulder at his mom and jumps back.

"Hi! Sorry. Are you ok? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I smile, loving his flustered self. He is growing on me, every day: his nervousness, his resistance, his concern, his empathy…

'I'm sorry I'm late," he apologizes again, wrongfully reading my silence. It thinks I am upset with him. "My mom made this list and…" He stops and glances down at the bag in my hand. He looks behind him at the front door. "You're not leaving, are you?"

Laughing, I pull up my sleeve and point at the time. "Yeah, It's almost 6 o'clock; time to go home. I'm starving."

"I am so sorry," he apologizes again and I really wish he would stop. We both know who set this up. "What about math?"

I shrug and then turn naughty. "You could come by my house later, after dinner, like an hour or so?"

There is a clearing of a perfectly clear throat behinds and River apologizes… one more time. "I'm sorry. I can't... I… I wish…"

I can see his mind scrambling. He is trying to come up with a solution, a way to fix things. Feeling bad, I lay a hand on his forearm and head for the door.

"Double lessons, tomorrow," I grin and he nods, still looking beaten. I wave to his mom who actually gives a wave back (perhaps glad that I am leaving). "See you tomorrow, River."

At home, after dinner and a shower, I crawl into bed and pull out last year's school year book. Joey has given it to me, to check out the pictures of him and his team. But, it's not to his photos that I turn the page. It's to River's. In the photo, he looks serious. There is no smile and no light in his eyes. It is not the River that I have learned to know. There seems to be something wrong and I feel my stomach cramping. To me, he comes off as sad and empty. The life, the glow in him that he has shared with me, is missing… Or maybe I am just imagining it.

I read below the picture and frown as I read his quote; "Trust in God to give you a Miracle."

I wonder what kind of miracle he is hoping for. Or maybe he just mean in general and for all mankind. That would be typical of him. River isn't selfish like the rest of us. I turn to Joey to read his quote which refers to winning the state championship. Right below his picture is So who's line just says "Prom queen 2013."

Not impressed, yet not surprised either, I go back to River's picture. His eyes haunt me. They come off as desperate, like he calling out to me for help… like he wants to be rescued… like he wants me to…

Quickly, I slam the year book closed and toss it to the floor. Clearly, I am losing it. River has a way of making me act, say, and think differently. To a degree, I hardly recognize myself any more. The Cara who moved here but a few weeks ago is slowly being replaced by another girl. What other mind blowing changes are on the horizon?


	11. None of my Business

Ok, here it is! Wasn't sure how I wanted to proceed.  
No fear, I already have next chapter thought out and things are def going to heat up.

You like, you want more, review!  
Thanks, B

**11. None of my Business.**

"So that's it? It's over? Just like that? Why?"

'_Why?_' I ponder. _'Why am I breaking up with Joey? Really? Is it because he is not sensitive and caring enough, because he doesn't give me butterflies in my stomach when he gets near, or because he just doesn't measure up to someone else?'_

I shake my head, refusing to accept that what I am thinking could be actually happening, and get back to dealing with the problem at hand. "Joey, I think we got together because of peer pressure. That is not a good reason. I'm sorry but I just don't feel anything for you. I'm sorry."

I hurry to walk away before he can think up a comeback. Whatever he has to say, I am sure it is nothing that I want to hear. Whatever it is, good or bad, it is not going to change anything. If nothing else, it is just going to embarrass or enrage me, and I'd rather not deal with either emotion.

The rest of the day, I have to listen to So and the rest of the girls bashing me over my decision. I keep reminding them that it is _my decision_, but they are not much for listening and understanding. Luckily, I am an expert at tuning people out so that is exactly what I do. By the time we all head to lunch, the high school gossip fairies have completed their work and the entire school seems to know. Whispers and pointing of nail polished fingers follow me everywhere. From all corners, I catch hopeful comments of being the next Ms. Joey.

'_Go ahead and take him'_, I want to tell them out loud.

The sooner the better so the attention will shift away from me. I just want to be done with it. Dust it off and move on. Move on…

My own attention shifts to the _"Jesus table"._ I still call it this. It's wrong, I know so, but it's got a certain ring to it. River has his back to me but something, something deep inside where it stirs and flutters, tell me that he is very aware of me. He can tell that I am watching; that my gaze is sweeping across his body and lingering at times. I am doing it openly, uncaring of who can see. River is becoming a fascination. Even though I haven't decided why and what to do with it, I do know that there is something about River that is pulling me to him and I am curious, very curious, to see where it will all lead.

"Cara, seriously, what in the he…"

So is talking, same thing she's been saying all day, but I don't listen. I can feel my eyes narrowing and my forehead scrunching. A female hand has been placed on River's shoulder and it remains there. He is making no effort to remove it. She is sitting next to him, close, and he doesn't slide away. He does nothing. He allows her to stay close, intimate, like he has never allowed me.

'_Who is she?'_

The rest of my school day is ruined. The image has burned itself into my skull and it is all that I can focus on. I need to ask him and make him tell me who she is. Why are the rules different for her? Is she family? Is it because she is part of the group? Is it because his mother approves? Is it nothing and I am simply losing it?

Tick Tock Tick Tock; it is if I can literally hear every movement of the clock. Second after second, dragging on until I am nearly jumping in my seat. I know I should be concentrating, listening, and learning but I am a teenager and I do not always do as I should. River is sitting 2 seats ahead of me and I feel as if I am burning a hole in his back with my stare. I suppose I am just awestruck. I didn't know that there was competition. River just seemed so… so girlless… so gameless… so attachless. Does his mom know? Then again, it could be nothing. She could be nothing. It could be…

'_STOP!_' I yell at myself, proving without a doubt that I am losing it. _'Just stop it, Cara. No more. Just another hour or so and then you can ask him. Stop freaking out and just ask him.'_

After an exaggerated exhale, I reassigned my gaze and concentration towards Mr. Reynolds. Luckily, it is History and I have always been partial. History, I can do. History I can grasp. Not like math. Although, I've gotten better… thanks to someone.

"Cara, the War of 1812 was said to have been fought in three principal theatres. Explain!"

My head snaps up and automatically my head begins to process a suitable answer. Mr. Reynolds likes asking me. I guess you could say that I am a favorite. Most students can't stand him but I don't have an issue with him at all. He holds lectures, I listen. He asks questions, I answer. He passes out tests, I ace them. These are pretty straight forward and acceptable demands I believe.

"The first theatre was at sea…"

My voice fills the room and I notice River's head twisting back just a tad, as if he wants to look my way but decide not to. I talk for a good while, too long by the look of some students' faces. By the look on Mr. Reynolds' face, I'd say easy A. Good thing, I snapped out of my daze when I did.

When the bell rings, I drag. It's not until Rivers walks past me that I get up so that I can walk beside him. The girl is right in front of him. I should know her name. I've heard it spoken many times. Suppose I just haven't cared before. Suppose I didn't know that she was of relevance to me. And perhaps she isn't, yet I hesitate to say anything to River in front of her. My cautious inner voice tells me to tread carefully around this one. There is something about her that sends a small shiver down my back… like a warning… a premonition of trouble.

So I walk behind him, close enough that if I was to extend my arm, I would be able to touch him. Yet, I don't. Why would I? I want to talk to him sure but touching would send the wrong message… to him… to the girl… to everyone. And, it's breaking the rules. The girl can touch him but not me… not me.

Out in the parking lot, I veer off towards me car. He looks my way, telling me that he had been aware of my proximity. The girl is next to him and she walks him to his car. There, they linger and talk. Sitting in my vehicle, I watch as her hand glides over his arm before she walks away.

All these questions and feelings are circling as I make my way to the church. I want to know. I really want to know. This I am sure of. However, I am not sure how to approach the subject. Do I just ask? But, what are my grounds? What business is it of mine? Why do I care? How do I explain myself? Tell him that I am curious?

I chuckle at myself and decide to turn on the radio. The car fills with music and I take a deep cooling breath. While driving, with the distance between myself and him shrinking, I make up my mind. I won't ask for it is none of my business and I don't care. Or should I say, I don't care enough for him to know that I care.

'_Wow, I am losing it!'_

I step out of the car outside the church and rush inside. River is not here yet and I like it that way. I'll be able to watch him come in through the doors, looking for me, and greeting me with a smile. Double lessons today; it's what he promised. And, I need them.

"Hi," he greets when he steps inside. But, there is no smile. "Were you speeding? That's not safe, Cara!"

'_Is he serious?'_

"No, I wasn't speeding. I just left before you," I argue and clarify.

He comes one step closer to me, subtle and unsure, as if he really shouldn't, but he can't help himself. "I know. I saw you. I was trying to catch up but…"

I laugh, making him stop, and call him out. "So you were speeding… so you could catch up with me… I see… interesting…"

I am teasing with him and it is working. "Well, I… I wasn't really… I mean…" He blushes and stumbles.

"Relax, River, I won't tell," I assure him and laugh again.

I walk over to our table and begin to unpack my backpack. He stays behind, acting again unsure of what to do. It makes me wonder if his mother is anywhere nearby. She sure has a grip on him. It's sad really that he is so restricted. No wonder he is waiting for a miracle.

"So, I looked through last year's yearbook," I say and I hear his feet finally move. He comes around the table and sits down across from me with eyes curious but slightly narrowed in preparation. "What's this miracle you are waiting for from God?" I ask boldly and directly without shame. River's eyes narrow even thinner and his forehead scrunch together in response to my intrusion. "Like the return of Jesus? Getting accepted into Harvard? Winning the lottery?"

I silence and we stare at each other from across the table. After a minute or so, I start getting nervous. He looks pissed. Is he pissed?

"I'm sorry. Are you mad at me?"

He blinks, softness returning to his entire face, and a smile even appears. "Mad? At you?" He asks shocked and looks down at the book in front of him. I try to capture his gaze, to read him, but he won't let me. "Let's get going with math… ok?"

"Ok," I agree even though I don't really want to leave the subject.

What is going on with this miracle? What is he waiting for? And, why can't he tell me?


	12. Pushing Past the Limit

One little review and you got a new chapter. I had totally forgotten about this story. Ops, sorry. Birgitta

**Pushing Past the Limit**

It's Friday which means another math test and another chance to get an A and I feel… I actually feel ready. It's all thanks to River. All week he has helped me. We have hardly done anything else at church, just math. I don't know how he swung that by his parents. Maybe they see me at a charity case too. No matter if they do. I just want that A.

Dad called last night. Even though I hung up on him and refuse to see him, part of me still wants to do well and show him. I guess I'm still his little girl, despite the disappointment and the feeling of abandonment. Mom says I should give him a chance. She says that he left her and not me. I can't see it that way… at least not yet. I need time.

Despite feeling ready, later in math when the test is laid before me, for a moment everything freezes and my mind goes blank. Then, River turns in his seat and looks back at me. That quick glance, that soft smile of encouragement, is all that I need. He does this to me. He makes me want to be more and do better. He makes me believe in myself. With reestablished confidence, I pick up my pencil and open up the test. Question number 1 is easy… and so is number 2… and number 3 is ridiculously easy… One after the other, I solve the equations with ease. My mind never doubts or strains; it just does… like it has never struggled or hesitated ever.

Even though River finishes before me, I am not far behind him. But by the time I exit the classroom, he is nowhere to be seen. I want to tell him. I want to thank him. I want to hug him. I don't even care if it is breaking the rules. I am just so excited right now that I could kis…

'_Kiss him?'_ I giggle on the inside_. 'Wow, he would probably pass out.'_

Down the hallway to my locker, I giggle at the image of his shock. What would he do and say? Would be push me away? Tell me that he could never see me again? Tattle to his mother?... or would he like it and ask me to do it again?

The giggle stops and I shake my head as I notice that my cheeks feel a bit heated. Getting intimate with River, who could have guessed that such thoughts would bring on tingles… down there? Even when kissing Joey, when he would press up against me and I would feel his hardness, it never ached and tingled. I guess this is why I broke up with him. There was no chemistry, no fantasizes, no desire… nothing. But with River, there is definitely something brewing. It started out slow and now it has begun to grow. Where we are headed, I am not sure. River has issues, secrets, and controlling parents. What I am still struggling with is whether or not he is worth it. Is he worth fighting for? Is he worth disregarding his oddities?

'_Yeah,'_ I resolve. _'He is. Now, I just have to convince him that I am also worth it."_

At lunch, I scan the cafeteria and see So waving frantically for me to join her. My gaze simply glides over her and moves on to another table. My mind has finally caught up with my heart. A mind that used to care about reputation, peer pressure, and expectations, is now tossing all such notions aside and just allowing the heart to steer. And, it is steering straight for River. There are obstacles… several obstacles… but obstacles can be climbed and overcome.

"Hi," I say and sit down to his right, making the entire table halt their conversations and focus in on me. "I think I might have my A."

He offers me a huge smile, completely unconcerned or unaware of our audience. "That's great! I knew you could do it."

"I never could have without you which brings me to my issue…" My words makes worry flash across his face, as if I am about to say something negative. "… today is my last day but I don't want it to be. I still want to come. Maybe not every day and maybe we can start meeting at other places like my…"

Someone clears their throat in an obvious and disruptive way causing me to stop talking to see who it is. It's her; the girl who is allowed to touch River when I am not. Anger and jealously begins to boil as I realize that she is sitting next to River on the left. Then I see her hand. It is placed on River's forearm.

'_What the…' _

"Cara, isn't it!" She states, not asks, and I nod. She offers me a fake smile which I return with equal fakeness. "I didn't know you knew River."

"Oh yeah…" I say and place a hand on River's other arm. River squirms uncomfortably next to me but he doesn't move or remove my hand. "… we're real close. In fact, we spend every weekday together for about 2 hours."

"Really."

The ice in her voice almost causes me to leer with victory. It is obvious that I getting under her skin as much as she working her way under mine. There is jealousy and rage in her over me which makes me think that she is definitely not a relative or just a friend.

'_Who the F is she?'_

"Does your mother know? Your father?" She squeaks and demands to know.

The audience around the table leans in, loving the show that we are putting on, to better hear River's response. "Of course, my father is the one who set it up. Cara has been a great help to the church."

"I see," she answers sourly and then a smile forms. I like her smile worse than I like her scowl. "Well our church always comes first. Doesn't it, River?"

His head is lowered, eyes on my hand. "Yes, Mary. It does."

'_Mary… that's right.'_

"Cara, I've heard you're from Chicago." I nod, just playing it cool and letting her lead the conversation. "I've heard you move around a lot. That you don't stay very long in one place."

She's heard a lot about me. Not a good feeling because I know nothing about her. Makes me wonder what else she knows. Does she know about my mom, about my dad, and what is she planning on doing with this information?

"So you probably won't stay for very long here in Miracle?"

I don't answer right away. Instead, I look her over. She is almost the opposite of me; curvy soft where I am masculine slender, curly blond hair while mine is straight brown, and light features against my darkened. There is also a stiffness to her. She comes off as trying to act proper too hard. Perhaps I just don't like her. I don't like her and I want to stick it to her… good.

"Actually I like it here… a lot," I let her know and place my other hand on River's upper arm.

The girl snatches her hand away from River's arm like a punishment and like it is going to break his heart. I'm ecstatic. My hand is now the only one linked to him and I can feel the currency moving between us. I can feel the heat coming off of him and I like it.

"River," she wines as she stands up and he looks up at her. There is such worry on his face that I debate on removing my hands off of him. "I will be telling my parents. Your parents can expect a call from mine tonight."

I watch smirking as she stomps off with her girl group. "Ooooooh, she's going to tell your parents and they are going to…" I stop as I see his face. This is no joke to him. "What? What is it? Who is that chick?"

River gets up and my hands fall to the side. Without answering, he leaves and I am left sitting at the Jesus table alone. The whole cafeteria stares, including Joey and So, and I just want to melt into nothing…. 'cause that is how I feel.


End file.
